


Catch My Drift

by frigCal



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bikers, Angst, Heavy Angst, Light Smut, M/M, Motorcycles, Plotfic, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-07
Updated: 2016-08-14
Packaged: 2018-06-07 00:24:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 34,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6776677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frigCal/pseuds/frigCal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the world of dusty roads, engines and two wheels, it’s easy to crash and burn. Jun seems to be going there with his motorcycle, and Jeonghan with his heart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: this story contains alcohol, smut, blood, suicide mentions and major character death.
> 
> For more, including snippets and spoilers, follow me on tumblr (blackhairedjeonghan.tumblr.com) and twitter (@frigcal).
> 
> Beta read by amazing Kay (jishans.tumblr.com).

Between choosing to take his coffee to the outside patio instead of drinking it inside, Jisoo didn’t think twice. The day was warm, as expected of late spring, and he just wanted to enjoy it while slowly letting the caffeine bring him back to his full senses. He was snapped out of his midday daze rather quickly, though, when he saw a familiar face among the few guests.

“Seungcheol? Choi Seungcheol?” He asked, even if he was pretty sure he had recognised the man correctly. His hair was black, unlike the messy blonde he had been sporting when Jisoo last talked with him, and he had a sharp, black suit on. Still, Jisoo was sure he approached the right man when Seungcheol raised his head and looked Jisoo in the eye.

Jisoo took a seat vis-a-vis to Seungcheol, and smiled softly. “Oh my god, it’s been years.”

“Josh.” Seungcheol smiled weakly, and the smile didn’t even reach his eyes. Jisoo could notice something was extremely wrong. Instead of leaving Seungcheol be, though, he wanted to find out what happened, hoping that their past relationship would still be strong enough to allow for a honest confession.

“What a coincidence to meet you here, right? I haven’t heard from you since high school.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” Seungcheol was visibly tired, but he maintained eye contact.

“You’ve got to tell me everything now. I’ve been kept in the dark enough, hm?”

Seungcheol sighed, and rested his head in his hands briefly, and then took a sip of his coffee. Jisoo noticed it looked a bit stale.

“Is this the wrong time?” Worried that maybe he misjudged the situation, Jisoo withdrew, but Seungcheol rubbed his face and shook his head.

“No, no, it’s just that I don’t even know how to start. So much has happened in the past months, no, years… You have no idea. But you should know.” Seungcheol’s tired look was replaced by something more focused and stern, resembling the old Seungcheol more.

“That much, hm?” Seungcheol nodded. “Then maybe tell me this,” Jisoo tried changing the subject. “What about the rest of the class? You still hanging around with Jeonghan?”

Seungcheol sighed very heavily, and for a while his eyes got hazy as he stared into the his coffee mug ominously. Then, he looked Jisoo in the eye again.

“It’s going to be a long story.”


	2. Burnout

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Date with Seungcheol is not what Jeonghan expected. Jun appears with a bang.

The sun rising that day would mark the first week of summer. The weather was already as warm as it should be at that time of year, even if it was still before dawn. Jeonghan wasn’t cold, even in his ripped jeans and flannel hoodie. The windows in Seungcheol’s pickup were wide open, so Jeonghan could study the surroundings while Seungcheol was talking to someone on the phone in the driver’s seat, using a voice almost as sweet as when he was calling Jeonghan.

What Jeonghan saw could be best described as a lovechild of a demolition site, scrapheap, and a parking lot. Seungcheol insisted that he had the perfect date idea, and that keeping it a surprise would only make it better, but Jeonghan couldn’t help but doubt it as he counted the unbelievably large tires in the stack.

“Alright, we’ll get there.” With that, Seungcheol hung up, and opened the door. “Let’s go.”

“Care to tell me what are we doing here? Are we at the city trash dump?” Seungcheol locked the car and started walking towards more tire stacks, while Jeonghan followed.

“Nope. I would tell you to guess again, but you’re never gonna.”

“If this is a joke, it’s not funny.”

Seungcheol halted his steps and turned to face Jeonghan. “You’re gonna love it. I promise.”

Jeonghan only rolled his eyes and kept walking. After several rows of strangely organised tires Seungcheol turned once, and then twice, and then smiled widely when he saw a very out-of-place looking short man with pink hair.

“Hey! I’m here.” Seungcheol was far more excited than the man he called.

“S.Coups. Finally.” The pink haired man was obviously addressing Seungcheol with that nickname. Jeonghan turned questioningly to Seungcheol.

“Yeah. Good to see you too, Woozi.”

“And this is…?” The one called Woozi turned to Jeonghan.

“Oh, he’s… Angel,” Seungcheol answered before Jeonghan could introduce himself.

“Alright, Angel, Coups. Let’s go before more people gather. Hm?”

“S.Coups? Angel?” Jeonghan hissed as soon as Woozi turned around and started leading them somewhere between stacks of tires and cubed cars.

“Everyone here has a nickname. I forgot to tell you. Sorry.” Jeonghan wasn’t really angry, so he just sighed and changed the approach.

“Care to tell me where we are?” He asked loud enough for both Seungcheol and Woozi to hear. Seungcheol kept quiet, and Woozi just pointed up and to the right. Stretched between two concrete pillars with metal rods sticking out was a huge banner with ‘Monster X’ written over it. “Monster ex?”

“It’s pronounced Monstercross.” Woozi didn’t even turn around.

“Surprise,” Seungcheol said simply.

“Wait, I don’t get it.”

“The motocross racing.”

“Wait, that motocross racing? MX?” Jeonghan was suddenly twice as excited as Seungcheol had been just before.

“For a second here I thought you brought along someone who had no idea what motors were.” Woozi lead them under the banner and right to a metal platform extending from a cliff.

Jeonghan’s jaw dropped open. Hesitantly, he approached the rail surrounding the platform and looked around. What he was looking at could be best described as an abandoned open pit mine. The more he looked though, the more he noticed it had turned into a long and complicated race track. It had obstacles and barriers in various places, and next to those barriers were places that looked like audience stands. He saw metal platforms much like the one he was standing on all around the track, on various levels, too, and between those, bridges that looked less than sturdy, made out of scrap metal, steel nets, and even plywood. He couldn't make out more, for the whole area was still covered in darkness. The sun was barely rising.

“I can’t believe it,” Jeonghan spoke finally. “Are we at the MX? Rreally?”

“Only noobs call it em-ex, if you want to seem oriented, say Monstercross,” Woozi answered offhandedly. He seemed strangely serious, until he saw Jeonghan’s dazed expression, and then he smiled softly.

“I told you you were going to love it.” Seungcheol approached Jeonghan and shyly put an arm around him. Jeonghan resisted the urge to lean out forward, and grabbed the rail securely. “You do, right?”

“I do.”

MX was to bikers what the Anonymous were to hackers - that one illegal group who remained untraceable even if most people knew about them. They had a long history of organising extremely dangerous, no-rules style motocross races going by the same name. Even though many people got seriously injured on track, and some even died, the races remained prestigious amongst bikers. Due to their brutal nature, they were illegal, and the group organising them kept the whole thing well hidden.

Usually the only sign that another MX was oncoming were sparse stickers with nothing more than the simple letters ‘MX’ suddenly appearing across the city and then disappearing after the finals were over. The only way to witness them as audience or even take part was to know someone who knew when and where they were held, which usually meant the organisers themselves.

Even if the races were very hard to get a hold of, the word about the winners and prodigies spread fast in the biker community. All contestants who made it unscratched were already respected, but the champs were surrounded by fame. That was why everyone wanted to be there, and ride there, even if it was illegal, and there was a real danger of dying on track.

And now, Jeonghan, a beginner biker was at the very place the Monstercross was about to happen at. Even if he himself wasn’t a great racer, and his motorcycle was generally only used to get around the city quickly, he took big interest in the racer community. Monstercross was something he mentioned to Seungcheol, and even if the man himself wasn’t as into biking as Jeonghan was, he understood his interests. And somehow Seungcheol has now taken Jeonghan on the single very best date Jeonghan ever went to, and it hadn’t even started.

“God, Cheol! How did you get us in?” Jeonghan barely glued his eyes off the track.

“Woozi,” He answered simply. Jeonghan turned around.

“Hey, man. Thank you. So much.”

“Let me guess, it was your dream to see those?”

“Something along those lines, yeah.” Jeonghan hoped he didn’t blush in shame.

“I get that a lot.” Woozi smiled again, and his eyes that earlier seemed scary and sharp now appeared soft and peacefully alert.

“It’s barely dawn, though.”

“The race begins six. It’s better when the air is a bit sharp,” Woozi explained, and Jeonghan nodded. It made sense not to race in the blinding sunlight of noon. He kept silent for a while, trying to take in as much as possible, before Seungcheol made a move and put his hand on Jeonghan’s. Jeonghan didn’t shake it off, even if he wasn’t sure if he liked Seungcheol back. He used his free hand to check the phone for time.

“We have one and half an hour.”

“People will start gathering around soon, let’s go to the stands.” Calmly, Woozi pointed to the metal stairs at Jeonghan’s right.

The walk downwards let Jeonghan see more of the track surroundings. Old mine ramps and rock benches that weren’t a part of the track itself were used as walkways between various platforms. On some, there were portable power generators with radios and speakers connected. The crater stands, ones near the finish and start line were already occupied by people.

“I couldn’t get the best spot by the finish line, but this is good as well. I mean, this is the first race after the qualifiers.” Woozi said when they arrived at a rather unstable-looking platform that could hold around twelve people. It had a poor view of the very finish line and a part after that, but most of the track was well visible. “It’s not too close to the track as well, meaning we won’t choke on the fumes.”

Seungcheol and Woozi exchanged a handshake. “You’re the champ, Woozi. Thank you, man.”

“Not a problem.”

“Are you a rider as well?” Jeonghan blurted out before he could stop himself.

“No, I’m more of a technician slash mechanic,” He answered, unphased. “I fixed up some of those platforms.” To prove his point, he jumped up and down, and the platform didn’t even as much as shake. Jeonghan nodded.

He didn’t speak up again until the platform started filling itself with people, most of them clad in leather just as Jeonghan was, some of them with beards, and almost everyone with some sort of biker gizmos. Soft chatter was filling the air, and nobody seemed excited enough to yell yet. To pass the time, Jeonghan leaned out a bit to see the finish line better.

One by one, various vehicles started gathering up at the start line, in some unknown to Jeonghan order. One of the reasons Monstercross was such a dangerous race was that while motorbikes were the most popular type of vehicle, everything below 700kg was allowed to be used in the race. Jeonghan spotted several quads and a couple of race cars, even. Looking at the narrowness of some of the tracks, he pitied those.

The sun was already up and the place was well visible when Woozi leaned over the rail as well and nudged Jeonghan.

“Hey, Angel. See this one there?” He pointed to the start line. “The red dual with super high fender? In the front.” Jeonghan looked for the vehicle for a while before finding it.

“Yeah, what about it?”

“That’s Jun. He’s the one most likely to be this year’s champion.”

“Really?” Jeonghan leaned out a bit more to get a better look. The dual sports motorcycle was a deep red, with the front fender up high and away from the wheel, and surprisingly narrow tracker handlebars. The rider was dressed in leather pants and a black and red vintage style racer jacket rather than in an oversuit like most of the riders. He had his helmet on already - it was a garnet red full face helmet rather than a motocross type helmet the rest of the riders sported. He didn’t talk to anyone, and had no mechanics checking up his vehicle. Jeonghan grew curious.

“The lone wolf?”

“I guess you could say that.”

“He’s got some knobby tires,” Jeonghan furrowed his brows. “Did he know the race is going to be in a place like this? I thought the location was a secret.”

“He always uses off-road tires. You’ll see why.” Woozi’s smirk was a bit mysterious.

“So, you’re saying to keep an eye on him?”

“Yeah. He won the qualifiers in great style, and before that, he aced the pre-qualifiers, too. He was beat only by Peach, the blonde ponytail on the crazy huge enduro Yamaha.” Jeonghan scanned the start line crowd again before he found something that matched the description.

Even if the enduro didn’t have a lot of cover parts, somehow the rider managed to make all of them pink with purple flowers. The rider was tiny, clad in a matching oversuit, with a gradient blue to purple helmet resting on the seat of the bike, and most importantly, was a girl.

“A girl?”

Woozi shrugged. “We don’t look the riders in the pants. She’s good, that’s all that matters.”

Seungcheol squeezed past two bald, bearded bikers to get to them. “And the other riders?” He asked, also trying to lean out.

“The guy in the quad on fifth and the car at the back are a couple, did you know? White Tiger and Ren. Tiger is a big softie, I don’t even know why he’s still here with his car. He almost died on the very pre-qualifications, and his boyfriend didn’t stop to help him.”

“The one on the quad is a guy? He looks like a girl, with this blonde ponytail.” Seungcheol acted surprised.

Jeonghan almost felt personally offended. He changed the subject. “When is it gonna start?”

“In like fifteen minutes, I think. When it’s ten minutes until the start, Havi’s gonna make a small broadcast.” When Woozi saw Seungcheol’s and Jeonghan’s surprised faces, he continued. “The speakers. We’re gonna have some commenting. We may be underground, but we’re not animals.”

“We?” Seungcheol nudged Woozi, who swatted his elbow away.

“I feel like a part of the team. Shut up.”

Woozi was right. Soon the speakers screeched, and a bright, excited, male voice reverberated through the entire place. “Hello everyone and welcome to the Monstercross!” He had to stop talking for a while, and Jeonghan fought the urge to cover his ears. The audience went crazy. “It’s Havi by the mic, the only guy crazy enough to try and comment this mess. Before we start, let me introduce everyone by the start line.”

“Havi is a part of the original MX team,” Woozi shouted over the cheers. “Have fun, guys, I have to go to the control station. Let’s meet in the bar when the race is over.” He exchanged a handshake with Seungcheol, and then left, somehow finding his way between the bodies. Jeonghan took his place instead. He could see the entire track if he leaned out in the right way, which he attempted. Seungcheol grabbed him by the waist and pulled back down.

“Now everyone, let’s start from the very back. Number eighteen is Hoya!” The man at the back waved to the crowd, and then put on his bright green helmet. Seungcheol leaned closer to Jeonghan.

“Be careful, or you’ll fall out,” He muttered, and Jeonghan couldn’t help to feel startled at their close proximity. He licked his lips against his will.

“Angels can fly, though.”

“Not this one.”

Jeonghan stayed motionless for a while, and then turned his head away to keep watching the race. “I want to know who I’m following.” Seungcheol also focused on the ride, but didn’t let go of Jeonghan’s waist.

Even if Jeonghan wanted to remember everyone by the name, but he soon found that he couldn’t. He only focused on whoever Woozi told him about, and the top three places. Even though they were all on motorcycles, they were quite a mix.

First a tall, thin, and handsome man with a streetfighter type motorcycle that seemed more fit for the streets than this track, going by the name of Hisi. Then, the blonde Peach girl on a bright pink motorcycle, who seemed to have a huge fanbase of girls right by the start line and seemed very out of place until she threw her leg over her huge enduro. And then Jun in the first place, who didn’t even remove his helmet when his name was read out. Unlike everyone else, he didn’t wave to the crowds, he barely saluted, and unlike others his name didn’t elicit screams of excitement from the audience, but rather a mix of joy and hatred.

“With that,” Havi continued from the speakers. “Let me remind everyone the rules of the race. First of all: there are no fouls, all is allowed.” After that, he had to wait for the crowd to calm down to speak again.

“All contestants who get injured and decide to leave the track, are disqualified. Those people, and corpses as well, are untouchable, and running over them, running into them, or preventing them from leaving the track gets you disqualified as well.” When Havi mentioned corpses, the crowd booed. Nobody wanted a bloodshed.

“Finally, the track is branched. Pick whichever route you prefer. If you manage to sneak between the barriers put up by our team then it means it was legal.

“The first ten riders to complete four laps around the track are qualified to the semi-finals. In a case of doubt, the recordings from a stop motion camera will decide. Last rule: no camera recordings and no photos. If anyone breaks that rule, we will find you, and deal with you our way.

“Let’s give our riders a moment to get ready before they start, and in the meanwhile, let’s ask our special guest, last year’s winner, Road Monster for an opinion! Tell us, RM, who do you think will win this year?”

“The competition is really tight this year, really. We have some really great bikers, the top three is amazing, but most of the qualified riders has got some chances for the champion title. I don’t think the winner can be typed.” The man introduced as Road Monster spoke with a deep, warm and husky voice, as the engines were being turned on.

“But if you had to bet on someone?”

Road Monster sighed. “I want to say I would bet on Jun, but...” More boo’s echoed through the pit, especially around Jeonghan. His curiosity about the mysterious Jun rose. “Mainly, though, I want to say that I think the cars and quads will have a difficult time, since this year’s track is really narrow.”

“As always, wise words from last year’s champion. Anything else?”

“Godspeed!” He joked. Even Jeonghan laughed. How ironic.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this? I heard this is very brutal.” Seungcheol was speaking normally but due to the noise of the crowds, it seemed almost as if he’s whispering.

“You’re not chickening out, are you?” Jeonghan’s eyes sparkled with excitement.

“No, not at all,” He retorted, but Jeonghan could hear the hesitation in his voice. Paradoxically, it made him appreciate Seungcheol more. He wasn’t all that into bikes, but he still went through the effort to get Jeonghan to stand here, about to witness the most prestigious of the edgy races in the entire country. He almost wanted to turn around and kiss Seungcheol on the mouth, when the crowd chilled down and Havi spoke again.

“With that, let’s start off the race. Is everyone ready?” From wherever Havi was, he seemed to be satisfied with what he saw - nods and thumbs up. Only when it lit up Jeonghan noticed that one of the beat up constructions by the start line was actually a christmas tree starting light. Jeonghan stopped registering the howl of the crowd around him, and started focusing on the low hum and purr of the engines running and tires being burned out.

And then they started.

Jeonghan started shouting right away, feeling the adrenaline taking the better of him, even if he himself wasn’t even close to the vehicles. He jumped up and down, too. It was surprisingly hard to focus on what was happening, because soon all vehicles spread evenly through the track. He distantly realised the host was still speaking, but he couldn’t make out the words, and he certainly didn’t focus on them, either.

The race began at the bottom of the mine, in the crater, and for the first twenty or so seconds everyone kept holding their horses back, focusing on accelerating and keeping the head start their positions gave them. By the start of the first upwards slope, though, the things got heated up. The bikes and cars raced away from Jeonghan, and he barely could see them for a while, and then a bunch of motorcycles took the first turn.

Jeonghan noticed the pink girl at the front, and then someone he didn’t pay attention to. He was surprised to not see Jun, who he almost hoped to win. And then he saw him, on another, narrower branch of the track, almost head-to-head with the quad rider who he remembered as Ren.

Jeonghan thought it was a very tough situation, since the road was narrow, and Jun was on the cliff side of the ramp, but if he didn’t get past Ren soon, he would stay behind for a long time. He thought he saw Ren slow down, and then the crowd went wild, and suddenly he understood why Woozi told him to watch out for Jun and why everyone was rooting for him.

In what seemed the most dangerous, suicidal move, Jun suddenly sprinted forwards, almost hitting the edge of the ramp, right past Ren, almost running into one of his quad’s tires. He barely dodged a metal barrel placed there as an obstacle, and then for a second it looked like he lost control on one of the metal plates patching up the track. But then, he managed to get the control back, and straighten up his path, and then he even avoided Ren charging at him from behind.

“Oh my god,” was all Jeonghan managed to say. He heard Seungcheol behind him groan as well.

The rest of the contestants suddenly stopped mattering, and all Jeonghan could think about was the fact that Jun almost died for several meters of advantage. He felt not only adrenaline, but also pure fear run through his body, unable to comprehend how anyone would do something like that. He heard the commentator say something about the cars at the back, and like that, he forced himself to focus on other riders.

The tiny girl called Peach was really good, and her enduro was taking the surface changes really well. She was in the front most of the time during the first lap, which had Jeonghan surprised she wasn’t the one typed to be the winner. From the back, someone in a car was pushing forwards, and almost toppled a biker over. Jeonghan felt a pang of pain to his heart, as if that was him on the motorbike, and not someone whose name he couldn’t even recall.

The commentator shouted something like “risky” and “dangerous” and “another challenge at the lead”, and Jeonghan really wanted to focus more on that, but he just couldn’t.

Nearly almost below the platform Jeonghan was standing on, was a sharp almost-U turn that two bikers took at the same time, Peach and someone, and they both drifted leaning to the side so hard Jeonghan could actually see dust on the someone’s sleeve afterwards. Jeonghan screamed his heart out, and jumped a few times.

With the corner of his eye he noticed that Seungcheol was excited as well, hollering something about Hisi who was in the second half of the group. After that, there was a rather sharp downwards slope, that Peach’s motorcycle barely clung to, and who the other biker almost slid off of.

Still, it all didn’t matter, when at the second lap, after the first slope, Jun suddenly decided that apparently the track was too long for his liking, and slipped between a stack of tires and a rail, in a gap that seemed too narrow for even a human to pass through it, not to mention an entire bike.

Because of the track change, the surface he had to ride over was littered with rocks, not big enough to crash into them but big enough to make a motorbike trip. Jun managed to maneuver around them and not crash himself, and then he used a metal panel that fell askew as a slope to get back on the track, saving himself good twenty seconds, and getting into the third position.

Jeonghan was cursing out loud the entire time from since Jun decided to go off track until he was on the ramp track again. He could hear Seungcheol doing pretty much the same next to him, but he didn’t dare turn around, since that meant he could lose a second of the race, and miss something crucial. Instead, he blindly grabbed Seungcheol’s hand and kept squeezing it harder each time Jun passed a rock formation or a tire stack by what seemed like millimeters.

Peach was still in the first place atthe end of the second lap, followed closely by Jun and someone whose name Jeonghan regretted not catching. They almost hurdled one into another at the sharp turn area, especially the other rider, who had less control over his bike. Jun managed to bring himself back upright, but the other rider had less luck.

Suddenly his rear wheel locked, and his motorcycle went crazy, turning and spinning and tumbling, and the rider fell off it, and slid against the dusty track, until his back hit a rock wall. His motorcycle slid in the opposite direction for another while, until it hit a stack of tires. Some guy on a quad almost run into it.

“What a highside!” Suddenly Jeonghan could make out Havi’s words more clearly. “I don’t think Yano is going to make it to the finish line. Jun is unscratched though, as always, luck is on his side!”

The commenting brought Jeonghan’s attention back to Jun. Havi went on, but the engine roar, crowd shouting and speaker noises all blended into one for him. Peach and Jun were close to each other, Peach refusing to give up her lead, even after Jun almost drifted off the high slope and right into the turn.

“You’re hurting my hand, Jeonghan,” Seungcheol muttered, and only then Jeonghan realised he has been squeezing Seungcheol’s hand the whole time. He released it.

From then on, it seemed that on the track there were two opposite worlds. The third lap was Jun and Peach going head in head, fighting for centimeters of lead. It seemed that Jun’s acceleration was better, while Peach’s huge vehicle was good at keeping her stable through whatever the track put her through. Then, not too far behind them, other vehicles were changing positions and crashing into each other, as if they weren’t fighting for the third, but for the first place.

By the end of third lap, just after the U-turn, Jun pushed the gas hard just before the slope, and at the last second he pulled his front wheel up, which resulted in flying several meters through the air before landing on the slope. The bike took the landing amazingly well, and Jun continued clearing the track at fast speed. Only when he almost disappeared from Jeonghan’s sight, it dawned on him, that Jun just got past Peach in great style.

For a while, he paid more attention to the rest of the racers. They were brutal, too, but it was much more about quads crashing into cars and bikers falling off the narrow benches only to barely regain balance. Jun was definitely the craziest driver in the bunch.

Jun and Peach rounded another corner, and Jeonghan could see them again. Both on a narrow, metal bridge. Peach had a disadvantage coming from the size of her motorcycle. Jeonghan wondered why she even got on that branch in the first place when he noticed that Jun was almost pushing on her, their vehicles locked tight together, and how when the platform ended, Jun didn’t move away.

He was trying to push Peach into the longer, but wider branch of the track. It suddenly made so much sense to Jeonghan, how everyone was rooting for Jun, but also hating on him at the same time. His riding was extraordinary, but it was also so dangerous that it was affecting other riders more than anyone else’s.

Then, Jun suddenly bounced off Peach’s side, and used a short slope to fling himself into the air and onto one extremely narrow, rock bench. He used it as a track, even if for the track organisers it wasn’t even wide enough to let people on it. Jun managed to not fall of it until the very end, when he bounced back on track, gaining even more lead on Peach. But it still wasn’t enough.

The crowd roar was deafening, and Jeonghan was sure he was a part of that. He wasn’t controlling his voice anymore when Jun flung himself off the last slope again, almost losing balance in the air just to land safely in the end, and rush right to the finish line. Jeonghan didn’t see him cross it, though. He turned around and left through the crowd.

Havi’s voice was everywhere, announcing how Jun won the quarter-finals, even if for that particular race there was no first place award. Jeonghan didn’t want to hear that, so he just kept walking. Soon enough he reached the spray-painted banner he saw when first entering the place, and felt a pang of guilt about leaving Seungcheol back there at the platform. He texted him his whereabouts quickly, waiting for Seungcheol to arrive, and when he did, Jeonghan exhaled with relief.

“Are you okay? You left so suddenly.” There as a genuine worry in Seungcheol’s voice that made Jeonghan want to love him.

“Yeah, I just felt dizzy because of all that screaming.”

“God, yeah, you fanboyed like crazy.”

“That race was motherfucking amazing. This is the best date I’ve ever been on, Cheol. Thank you.”

“Here, it’s S.Coups.”

“Fine.” Jeonghan rolled his eyes and walked away from the concrete pillar. “Thank you, Coups.”

“You didn’t see Jun win properly.” Jeonghan’s stomach churned at the mention of the biker.

“I don’t care, I know he won. The finish line was barely visible anyway.” To silence Seungcheol, he walked right into the other’s arms, and burrowed his face in the crook of his neck. “Let’s go before it goes crowded?”

“Let’s go.” Seungcheol’s voice was breathy, and he was hesitant to let go of Jeonghan. Somehow, he remembered the way to his pickup, and lead Jeonghan along.

The ride to Black Tar, the bar where the local biker community always met was silent. Seungcheol kept trying to initiate a conversation, but Jeonghan smiled sweetly and leaned out of the window after making the excuse of needing to calm down. They were followed by many bikers and some other cars, all set on the same destination.

After Seungcheol pulled up at the back, taking one of the not-numerous empty car parking spaces left, he pulled his phone out from his pocket.

“It’s Woozi. He’s saying he’ll be in the bar in half an hour. He, and some of the champs, too, apparently.” Seungcheol smiled.

“You know, this really was the best date ever, S.Coups,” Jeonghan said, sing-songing the nickname.

“Yet, you seemed so grim just before. You okay? Really.”

“Yeah. It’s just,” Jeonghan sighed. “They all risked their life, and the race was ruthless, but Jun…” He rolled his head and groaned, unable to find the words. “He’s so god damn risky. Throwing away his life as if it’s worth nothing. I can’t understand that.”

Seungcheol watched Jeonghan fix his long hair and prop his legs on the dashboard before speaking up. “Some people are just crazy like that. Adrenaline junkies.”

“But can’t he just, I don’t know, parachute or something? He’s also putting other people in danger.”

“It’s Monstercross, not some random street, Jeonghan,” Seungcheol said, and then huffed a little. “I can’t believe I’m defending him. I actually agree with you.”

“Let’s go to the bar already, shall we?”

With that, they rolled the windows up and locked the car, and entered the bar. Black Tar was just what you expected from a motorcycle tavern - huge, with many table seats and booths scattered by the walls, and an island bar in the middle. They also served warm dishes. Mostly hamburgers and nachos, but rarely anyone wanted anything more. On the upper floor, there were rooms to let for the night.

Jeonghan and Seungcheol settled in one of the booths. After Seungcheol’s nagging, Jeonghan agreed to eat breakfast with him, and soon they were joking and talking over a plate of beast style fries, with their legs tangled under the table. They didn’t even manage to finish the entire thing before Woozi came in and joined them.

“Everyone’s already drinking, and I’m gonna have a beer, too. It was a god damn long night. Coups, Angel, what about you?”

“I’m gonna pass. Designated driver,” answered Seungcheol.

Jeonghan first shook his head, but then when watching Woozi leave, he got second thoughts. With a quick “Wait a bit,” directed at Seungcheol, he rushed to the bar.

“Actually, I think I’m gonna get something too. It feels like the evening already.”

“Everyone is always fucked up after the race.” Woozi nodded. “Hey, Green Thumb, give me a pint of whatever you have in the tap.” He easily got the attention of the bartender. “And you?”

Jeonghan opened his mouth to speak, when Woozi made a surprised expression and reached into his pocket, and fished out his phone. “Wait, it’s important. I have to get that. Take care of that, will you, Angel?” With that, Woozi disappeared to pick up the call.

“What’s good in here?” Jeonghan addressed the heavy-lidded bartender instead.

“You want a cocktail or a beer?” The man referred to as Green Thumb spoke in a surprisingly deep voice.

“I feel fancy.”

“Do you want to get fucked up or not?”

“Not really.”

“Long Island Tea?”

“Go for it.” Jeonghan seated himself by the bar, and looked around. There were quite some people around already, and the bar was still being filled up with people. Soon, someone slipped into the stool next to him.

“Green Thumb, my love, I don’t care you’re whipping something up, give your best man a shot of your worst stuff, quick. Please.” He spoke as soon as his arms hit the counter, catching the attention of the bartender immediately.

Green Thumb sent him a sympathetic smile and poured two shots of something white, and slid them towards the stranger. “This is on the house,” He said, and went back to taking care of the orders that came before Jeonghan’s.

“Rough night, huh?” Jeonghan asked the stranger after seeing him down both shots in a row.

“You bet,” was his answer. Jeonghan gave the stranger a careful once-over. He was dressed in a simple, white t-shirt, a quite sweaty one, too. He had sharp, deep brown eyes, and an even sharper jawline. His hair was messy. All in all, he looked handsome, Jeonghan thought, even if a bit particular, resembling a drawing more than an actual human.

“What’s your name?”

The stranger fixed his hair, and ogled Jeonghan obviously. “Wen Junhui. And you?”

“Yoon Jeonghan.”

“What brings you here, Jeonghan?” Jeonghan felt like he was just asked if he comes to Black Tar often.

“Stuff.” He really wanted to talk about how he just saw the very Monstercross, but on the other hand, it was a secret after all.

“Alright. Stuff. What kind of stuff is it, that it makes you drink at this time of the day?”

Jeonghan’s attention was stolen by the bartender, who handed him two tall glasses. Jeonghan sipped on his drink. “Tell me what brings you here instead.”

“Stuff.” Junhui smiled a crooked smile, and Jeonghan felt his heart skip.

“Are you into bikes?” He tried to start the conversation.

Junhui rested his forehead on his palm. “I guess, you could say so. Yeah.”

“Then you know about MX, right?” He gave in.

“Of course.” Junhui looked into his empty shot glass.

“I just returned from watching it. Best date ever.” Jeonghan was rambling a bit, but Junhui’s presence took him by surprise, and he didn’t know what to talk about. He discarded the straw in favour of drinking his Long Island Tea straight from the glass.

“Date?” Junhui almost snorted.

“He’s over there.” Jeonghan gestured in Seungcheol’s general direction and took another sip.

Junhui looked over, and then directed his gaze back at Jeonghan. “You don’t look too eager to get back to him.”

Jeonghan sighed and tried to change his expression. “He’s a great bloke.”

“Mhm, and ‘a great bloke’ doesn’t get him into your pants.” Jeonghan couldn’t help but laugh at that, and then in shame, he downed half of the rest of his drink.

“Hey, I have to go back to him. I can’t ditch him like that.”

“Oh, he looks fine.” Junhui looked into the distance. Jeonghan followed his gaze, and saw Seungcheol talking with Woozi, who forgot entirely about his beer.

“I ditch him, and then what?” Jeonghan raised his eyebrow, hoping for a certain answer.

“And you spend the evening with me.” After several seconds of silence Junhui licked his lips, and Jeonghan was done for. He shot Seungcheol another look, and seeing him completely engrossed in the conversation, he turned back to Junhui.

“I could.”

“You could.” A short silence. "Will you?”

Jeonghan drew out the silence for a while more. “I actually will.”

“Let’s go?” Junhui didn’t seem like he was dead tired just minutes ago. His eyes were sparkly. Jeonghan looked into them for far too long before he finished his drink, grabbed Woozi’s bear, and slapped a bill from his pocket on the counter.

“Let’s go.”

Junhui grabbed his hand - Jeonghan noticed that it wasn’t sweaty at all, and that it was warm and kind of soft and oh god he squeezed it back too hard - and dragged him across the dancefloor, and to one of the most distant, secluded booth tables, where they spent the rest of the evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first proper chapter is finished, whoo! All the racers, staff and crew members that appear in the fanfic are other kpop idols, but some of them had to receive a nickname, since they were using their real names, and in the MX world nobody goes by their real name. If you want to, you can try guessing who is who, and I'm certainly going to answer. As always, please leave kudos and comments if you enjoyed my work.


	3. Realizations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Junhui is Jun. Jeonghan is shocked.

The headache was what woke Jeonghan up from his heavy sleep. The awakening was slow, and even before he regained his consciousness fully he realised there was something moving next to him, and that the bedsheets felt especially rough against his skin, and against his bare body. Rising up to a sitting position, he understood why - it wasn’t his bed, and he wasn’t alone in it. He carefully looked at the person beside him - Junhui, he recalled, and the memories of his past night slowly seeped into his head. Meeting Junhui by the bar, drinking too much, dancing with Junhui, drinking even more, and then a blur of dancing and making out in a dark hallway, leading to god knows where.

Jeonghan connected the dots and sighed heavily. He just ditched his date, Seungcheol, to drunkenly fuck with a stranger he met in a motorcycle bar, and on top of that, he remembered nothing. Fighting with the headache he tried to think up an action plan, but before he could even focus, Junhui stirred in his sleep, and sat up too. The daze of sleep on his face slowly turned into shock.

“Hello there.” Jeonghan would smirk smugly if his head didn’t hurt as much as it did.

“Well, aren’t you a nice view to wake up to.” Junhui tried to be flirty, but then groaned in pain. He tried crawling out of the bed, but he stopped when the bedsheet rolled off him and revealed his bare groin.

“Nice ass,” Jeonghan commented while Jun grabbed a pillow in panic and pressed it to his crotch in a belated strike of modesty. Jeonghan had the courtesy to look away as Junhui fished his underwear from the clothes scattered on the floor. He did notice, however, that Junhui had freshly bruised arms, still pink in colour, and he couldn’t help but wonder if it was him who roughed the man up so much.

The silence would have seemed awkward to them if they thought about it. They didn’t, though, too busy thinking about getting water and painkillers.

“This is awkward, but I remember nothing,” Jeonghan confessed, when Jun discarded the pillow. Jeonghan noticed he wasn’t body-shy at all, not trying to get into his leather pants or a shirt, but rummaging through a drawer in his boxer briefs alone. His knees seemed bruised, too.

“Thank god,” Junhui straightened sharply, and grabbed his head, regretting the sudden movement. “I mean, I don’t remember a fucking thing, actually, which is a pity, by the way,” he ogled Jeonghan. “And I didn’t know how to tell you.”

“Glad we’re on the same page.” Jeonghan experimentally checked himself out under the duvet, and groaned at what he saw. “I think I have spunk on my thighs.”

Junhui scoffed, and then walked out of the room. “Dress yourself up, I’m gonna get us painkillers.”

Jeonghan decided to scrub the dried semen off his body with the duvet cover, and then threw on his boxer shorts and the simple t-shirt he had on the night before, even if it smelled like shit. He decided against dressing up fully to not seem too prudish around Junhui. Besides, he didn’t want to seem like he wanted to run away. Even if he remembered nothing, he wasn’t the type to leg it after one night stands or spontaneous hookups, and fortunately Junhui didn’t seem like the type to kick those out of his place.

“I feel terribly awkward asking this, but is this your place?” Jeonghan looked around the tiny flat. It was lacking any decorations, and a bit messy. The living room was separated from the tiny kitchen only by a bar counter, and other than the bedroom he came from, Jeonghan noticed only one room. The hint of tiles on the floor told him that it must be the bathroom. Junhui was in the kitchen, pouring water from a filter. Jeonghan sat by the counter.

“It is. Nothing impressive, sorry.” Junhui placed a huge glass of water and a box of OTC painkillers in front of Jeonghan. He swallowed two, and chased them with over half of the water.

“God, I feel like crap.”

“Same, actually.” Junhui swallowed his painkillers too.

“Thank you for not kicking me out.”

“Thank you for not ditching the place as soon as you woke up.” Junhui smiled dryly.

Jeonghan cleared his throat. “From what I can remember, you’re a nice guy, so I have no reason to.”

“I’m not a nice bloke, though, right?” Junhui wiggled an eyebrow, and Jeonghan let out a short laugh.

“Certainly not.”

This time, when the silence got awkward, both of them noticed it. 

“I don’t want to tell you to leave, but-”

“But you have to go?” Jeonghan finished with a sour expression.

“Yeah, I need to check up on my bike.” He paused slightly. “So I would appreciate it if you went with me maybe?” Jeonghan was bewildered for a second, and Junhui took it the wrong way. “God, it was out of place for me to offer this, wasn’t it? I’m sorry-”

“No, actually. I would love to.”

“Good. I need to get dressed, then.”

“Good.”

Jeonghan finished his water when Junhui left and sighed deeply. He would kill for a shower, but that wouldn’t be the first time he went out the morning after he got wasted in the same clothes. Except it wasn’t morning, he cursed under his breath. He waited for Junhui to come out of the bedroom, fully clothed, before rushing in there and looking for his phone.

“God, what time is it?” He panicked when he couldn’t find it in the pocket of his jeans.

“It’s six-thirty. PM,” Junhui checked on some device in the living room. “Why?”

“Good god.”

“What’s got your panties in a bunch, handsome?”

“For a second I was scared I slept through the entire day.” Jeonghan found his phone in the breast pocket of his jacket instead.

“We didn’t.” Junhui laughed softly and effortlessly, leaning against the doorframe. Jeonghan looked at him from where he was still sitting on the floor, and felt his heart beat faster. In the broad daylight, Junhui was still deadly handsome, but now instead of a mysterious sharpness, he had an endearing warmth to him. Jeonghan was fucked.

“I’m glad.”

“I’m sorry I’m dragging you out of here without a shower. Can I make it up to you with a breakfast later?” 

“At this time of day, it’s lunch.” Jeonghan answered, trying to avoid the subject of not showering, now that he realised he was actually willing to drag along Junhui instead of leaving to his own place as fast as possible to put himself into order. He stood up and started getting dressed up, instead.

“I just really need to check up on my bike. I hope to god we didn’t get here on it, I mean I must’ve been fucking smashed, I don’t usually get blackouts like that.”

“What’s the name of that special drink? Oil Slick?” Jeonghan laughed and Junhui cursed.

“Fucking Oil Slick, you know what’s in this?” Junhui had the courtesy to not comment when Jeonghan checked his looks using his phone camera as a mirror. “Tequila, absinthe and cherry brandy.”

Jeonghan decided against putting the jacket on, and threw it over his shoulder. Junhui did the same with his. “Actually, that sounds terrible.”

“They add something to it. It tastes like a sugary dream, but it fucks you up big time.”

“I can see that.”

Instead of taking offence, Junhui smiled again, and Jeonghan tried very hard to ignore how it made something in his stomach twist in the best way possible. “Let’s go.”

Junhui turned out to be even more interesting when they were both sober. Their conversation held together with no problems, and flowed effortlessly. It was a bit of a push and pull, Junhui making greasy comments and Jeonghan retorting with sharp answers, but then softening, and not judging Junhui for getting lost with his words sometimes.

Junhui said he left his motorcycle by the Black Tar, and that’s where they went. It was just a couple of blocks, and the walk outside made them feel less groggy, especially Jeonghan. When they reached the tavern, Jeonghan was happy to notice the lack of Seungcheol’s car in the front. They walked to the back, though, and Junhui almost ran the last few steps to what must’ve been his bike, judging by how he treated it as a human being.

Jeonghan looked at the vehicle once. He looked twice. Then he looked at Jun’s jacket, and the helmet locked to the motorcycle’s handle. And then he looked again. There was no mistake, the helmet was a garnet red full-face, and the bike was a dual sports motorcycle with an unusually high fender, and the paintjob on it was definitely red under all the dust and dirt. Junhui was lamenting quietly over some scratches on the subframe, but Jeonghan didn’t listen to him.

“Oh my god,” Jeonghan backed away a step. “Even the jacket matches.” He realised out loud.

“Hm?” Junhui’s expression was genuinely worried.

“You’re Jun.”

“Oh.”

Jeonghan wanted to be enraged, but he only managed to be shocked. “You’re Jun?”

“Yeah, well. Obviously, I mean. I am.” Junhui was rambling.

“And you didn’t tell me?” Jeonghan backed away even more, but there was nowhere to go, so he just turned around to face Junhui - Jun - again.

Junhui weighed his words for a while before speaking up. “And how do you say that? Hey, I like, you, let’s get fucked up and screw at my place. Oh, by the way, I’m the Monstercross champ you probably boo’d at? It doesn’t work.”

Jeonghan felt his cheeks heat up. He wasn’t even sure if he didn’t really boo at Jun. “But…”

“Besides I think I kind of thought you’d realise.” Junhui’s expression grew sour. “Junhui, Jun, it’s a crap nickname. And the race, bikes, bar… I don’t know what I expected. I guess I’m sorry.”

Jeonghan simply stood in place for a while, letting the news sink in. He just got hit on, and then fucked with the current champ of the Monstercross, who he saw barely escape the death several times (and hated for that, too) less than twenty four hours ago. And the worst part was that he wasn’t even angry about it.

He didn’t know how long he was standing there, wordless, but Junhui was growing anxious with each second, visibly fidgeting with the helmet in his hands, and Jeonghan realised that Jun must’ve been feeling much more stressed than he was. The very same man who pulled the deadliest stunts just hours ago, was now fearing being rejected so much, he was actually, literally biting his lip. Jeonghan had a hard time wrapping his head around that fact.

Finally, he sighed, and shook his head. Even if he hated Jun briefly before, he liked Junhui more. With one more exhale, he spoke.

“I didn’t expect that.” And then, when Junhui didn’t seem to get the hint, Jeonghan sighed again. “But good to know, I guess. That I’m going to get treated to a lunch by the very Jun himself.” Jeonghan cringed internally at that.

In a short time, Junhui’s expression returned to his normal, gentle smile, if not more relieved. “So I’m treating you now?”

“Hell yes, you are.”

Jun snorted. “Fancy a burger?” He gestured with his head in the direction of Black Tar.

“God, no. Greasy. Hangover.” Jeonghan frowned, and Junhui nodded.

“You’re right. Greasy, gross. There’s a cafe that serves waffles, like two or three blocks from there. I can’t offer anything better.” He shrugged, and pouted briefly. Under the calm facade, his eyes were still a bit anxious, looking for something that would assure him Jeonghan is really okay with what just came up.

Jeonghan smiled a sincere smile, simply not able to stop himself. “Coffee sounds great.”

When they walked to the cafe, Jeonghan tried not to think about how the witty, intelligent and handsome Junhui was actually the crazy and reckless Jun. He hoped he’d managed his expressions well enough for Junhui not to realise he had a bit of a storm going on inside his head. Even if Junhui realised, he kept talking softly, squinting at the sun with half of his face, and laughing at his own bad jokes, and Jeonghan found it easy to forget about how negative he felt about Jun’s tactics several hours ago.

Before they hit the door of the cafe that Junhui held open for him, Jeonghan was already on terms with the fact that Junhui was apparently the most brilliant and mad biker he ever knew. There was only one thing bugging him, though. He asked about that out of nowhere, when they were both finished with their waffles, and Junhui’s giggling had freshly died out.

“I don’t get something though, Junhui. Why do you ride like this?” 

Junhui had his coffee mug close to his lips, but he put it down, and sighed heavily. Something in him changed for a second, and it was the most visible in his eyes, even if he didn’t look directly at Jeonghan. Then, he made a pained expression, and Jeonghan decided he hated that look on Jun so much he was willing to take that question back, but Junhui spoke before he could.

“I don’t want to say it’s a long story, but…” He seemed to change his mind mid-sentence, and sighed heavily. “It’s personal. And hits very close home. No offense but I know you for less than twenty four hours and I don’t exactly feel comfortable with sharing my sob story with you.”

Jeonghan nodded. He tried not to feel ashamed by his own prying. “I need to be at least level four of friendship to unlock your background story, huh?”

Junhui didn’t laugh. “Kind of.” 

Jeonghan fell silent, and looked down.

“Do you really want to know?”

Jeonghan thought deeply before answering. Did he really want to know why Jun was so confident and unafraid? Did he really want to know what was hiding behind the death-threatening maneuvers and reckless approach? “Yes,” He said, sure of himself.

“Then I will tell you one day. If we get closer.”

“How much closer?” Jeonghan asked, just to tease him.

“A lot closer. Like, in love level closer.”

Jeonghan nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “It won’t be hard.”

“Aren’t you thinking too highly of yourself?”

“You didn’t say who had to be in love with who, though.” 

The joke did cost him a bit of truth, but when Jun’s usual smile now had a blush in it, Jeonghan decided it was worth it. He just hoped Junhui’s heart was beating as loudly as his own was, so that he had a chance at ever understanding the reason behind Jun’s behaviour.

Junhui cleared his throat after a while. “You know what, I don’t mind treating you more often if that means you’ll agree to go on more dates with me.”

“I’m not so high maintenance,” Jeonghan laughed. “So you can save some money.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Next time it’s my treat. And I’ll pick a coffee shop that’s actually good.” He gestured to the mug full of cold coffee that he was refusing to drink under the explanation that it was a sorry excuse of a bean water, not actual coffee.

“So there’s gonna be a next time?”

“If it depends on me, then definitely. And this time nobody gets shitfaced.”

Junhui laughed shortly, and Jeonghan thought it makes him sound like a puppy. “You bet.”

“I can show you the best coffee place around if you meet me by the city hall. “

“When?”

“This friday? 2pm?” The suggestion was the first date that came to Jeonghan’s mind, and Junhui agreed to it.

“I don’t want to miss you, though, so…” Jeonghan fished his phone out of his pocket and handed it to Jun, who fortunately needed no more words to understand. He saved his number, and then handed it back to Jeonghan. Jeonghan was almost disappointed to find a “Wen Junhui” in his contact list instead of a witty name with an emoji at the end, but he still called Jun briefly.

“Save my number, so you know who’s calling.” He said out of habit. Junhui obediently grabbed his own phone, but then he frowned at the screen, and started clicking and scrolling it.

“What’s going on?”

“It’s the MX team. Apparently, we have a leak. You didn’t take any photos, did you, Jeonghan?”

“No! Why would I?” He quickly denied, trying not to think about how much he liked the sound of his name when Jun was the one to say it.

“Good. Cause some photos leaked. And you see, once photos leak, the cops start getting curious. Apparently we have to lay it down.”

Jeonghan nodded, and bit his lip. “What do you mean?”

“The semi-final was supposed to be in a week, but right now they don’t even know if it’s gonna happen by the end of this month.”

Jeonghan didn’t say anything. Junhui scrolled through his phone more.

“Two months,” he said, finally. “They’re gonna wait two months. Because of, quote unquote, organisation troubles. I can’t believe this.” 

Junhui seemed angry, but Jeonghan wanted to thank the heavens for the guaranteed two safe, calm months he could spend on getting to know Jun better instead of having to watch him risk his life again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter is a bit short, isn't it? I'm sorry, I didn't want to stretch it out too much. I hope you all still like it tho! Tell me what you think in the comments.


	4. Temporary and Oncoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeonghan and Jun enjoy what they have while they still have it.

When Jun learned Jeonghan was also a biker, albeit a much more casual one, he seemed to beam with happiness. Since then they had several short road trips - to nearby cities, to nearby camping sites, to nearby lakes - but nothing longer, until a couple of days ago Junhui had asked Jeonghan out for a night out of the city.

Nervous, Jeonghan turned the engine of his roadster off, and jumped off it. After a ride that was almost uncomfortably long, he had arrived at the designated place a bit early, so before looking around, he calmly took off his helmet, locked it to the handle, and checked his phone. It was silent, though. He debated over texting Junhui that he arrived early, but before he could decide, there was a voice right next to his ear.

“You’re here early.” Jeonghan jumped up when he heard what was unmistakably Jun’s voice.

“God, Junhui, you scared me!” He resisted the urge to punch Jun in the chest, and turned around. They shared a sweet, gentle peck on the lips, and then Jeonghan pushed Jun back slightly.

“Alright, I arrived on time, or even early, I brought what you asked me to bring,” he pointed at his backpack. “And now it’s the time when you lead the way.”

Junhui smiled widely, and didn’t let Jeonghan out of his embrace completely. “Actually, we’re gonna ride a bit more. The road is not as beaten up as I thought it is, and your bike should be able to handle it.”

“If you say so.” Jeonghan smiled and attempted to push Junhui away again, but to no avail. “I thought we’re supposed to go?”

“I’m just happy to see you.” Jun responded and smiled again, and then with a final peck to Jeonghan’s cheek, he let the other man free. “I’m gonna lead the way, okay?”

Jeonghan nodded, and got back on his motorcycle, and set the engine running. He followed Jun down a dusty road, keeping slightly to the side to avoid the worst fumes. They were already outside the city, but the paths Junhui chose made them move further away from the outskirts and into the empty in-between land of not quite anyone’s property.

The road wasn’t desolated, and Jeonghan even noticed a sandy astray stop station with a picnic table made out of solid wood. Even so, the ground underneath him kept getting less and less stable, and Jeonghan had to admit that if the road was any more dry or wet, his city bike would have problems with conquering it.

Finally, they took the last turn, choosing the least used and narrowest road yet. It was short, though, and Jeonghan could finally see their destination. Surrounded by the forest on two and a half sides, and by an almost-a-meadow clearing on the rest, there was a white van parked on a patch of well-trodden ground the path they took lead to. Junhui parked right in front of the van.

“Tah-dah.” Junhui said when they both turned off their engines and took off their helmets. His voice was very chipper, telling Jeonghan there is more to see than he’s seeing.

“A van?” Jeonghan really wanted to be excited, but all he was seeing was just a white van that seemed to be standing in this one spot for a long time.

“Correction,” Jun held a finger up. “A camper van.”

It suddenly dawned on Jeonghan. “You’re shitting me.”

“I am not shitting you in the slightest.” To prove his point, still with the helmet in hand, Junhui approached the van and opened it with a key he fished out of his pocket, first sliding the huge side doors open, and then opening the white curtain inside.

Jeonghan’s mouth hung open for a while. The inside was nothing like the outside - rustic, wooden, neat and just pretty. Next to the backdoor was a huge bed, in front of the sliding doors - a kitchenette. On top of that, there was a table between the rotating driver’s and passenger’s seats. The entire van was big enough to stand in it, even if Jeonghan could do it more easily than Junhui.

“Not too bad, huh?” Jun was beaming, looking at Jeonghan from the driver’s seat.

“This is amazing,” Jeonghan said, sitting down on the bed. The bedsheets didn’t even smell musky. “And it’s not even hot inside.”

“All thanks to the trees.”

“Is it yours?”

Junhui smiled playfully. “Kind of mine, but mine enough to use it legally.”

Jeonghan didn’t need more. He took his time, soaking in how the drawers of the kitchenette were a cozy shade of blue, and how there was a heart cutout in the cabinet door.

“So, do you like it?”

“I love it.” Jeonghan’s eyes were positively sparkling. “I love it already.”

“Well then I guess you’re gonna be sad to hear we’re not staying here yet.”

“Huh?”

Jun pointed to his backpack, a bit more packed than Jeonghan’s. “We need to eat this first. And to do that, we’re gonna have a picnic.”

Jeonghan laughed out loud, not ridiculing Junhui, but just laughing out of pure, untainted joy. Somehow Jun always had the sappiest, cheesiest ideas of a hopeless romantic, as if he pulled them straight out of a romantic comedy. Even the most corny ideas or greasy pickup lines, with a dash of Wen Junhui, suddenly seemed to work.

Jeonghan was already feeling bubbly inside thinking about spending several hours on picnicking with someone, knowing Jun, probably by some lake. For the first two weeks he hated himself for letting Junhui make him feel like a schoolgirl. After one more week though, he admitted to himself that he loved every single second of it.

“You’re impossible.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Junhui smiled, and rose up. “Let’s go, Angel. You have the blankets, right?”

Jeonghan refused to comment on how sappy Junhui made that nickname become. 

Junhui chose a path between the woods that was barely noticeable before, hidden behind the camper, and he lead Jeonghan near to another clearing. The road wasn’t even half a minute long, and Jeonghan was correct - there was a small, forest lake, with a rocky waterside and a wooden platform that was barely holding together.

They quickly laid down the blankets and secured them with some rocks, and then Junhui unpacked half of his backpack, revealing mostly convenience store snacks, one huge container with pasta salad, one smaller container with kimbap rolls, one average sized container of some kind of Chinese pancakes with sugary syrup, and two bottles of cheap, white wine, that were almost warm already. Jeonghan loved it to bits.

They didn’t get drunk on the cheap wine, and they didn’t eat all the food. Junhui promised that kept in the right place the pasta salad and kimbap would stay fresh until they had to leave tomorrow, and that if not, they could just live off jelly beans and gummy bears he bought. Halfway through the Chinese pancakes Jeonghan decided they’re too sweet for his liking, and that he’d rather have something else. They kissed, lying down on the blanket, almost knocking over a wine bottle. Junhui pushed his luck and tangled his fingers in Jeonghan’s hair, and Jeonghan let him do that, just this once.

When the sun was further than halfway down the sky, they stopped talking aimlessly, and packed the food. Junhui put it in what he claimed to be the coolest drawer in the entire van, and pulled out the awning. When he came back, Jeonghan presented him with a cheesy bouquet, consisting mostly of dandelions and clovers. They blew some of the dandelions, and Junhui unsuccessfully tried to make a flower crown for Jeonghan out of the clovers.

They didn’t close any of the doors, not when they ran barefoot from one clearing to another, not when Jeonghan screamed because he stepped on a bug, not when they had to run back to the lake clearing because it was evening already and they realised they left the wine there.

During that entire time, Jeonghan felt so happy he forgot the rest of world even existed, and it only came back to him when he and Junhui were lying next to each other on the bed, back door of the car open, looking at the trees, at each other, and at the non-light polluted sky. It was evening already, Jeonghan realised, and the next day at the same time, Junhui would be racing again. His heart squeezed painfully when he remembered how he first saw Jun pull the stunts he usually did.

“Jun?” He started, thinking he knew what to ask about.

“Hmm?” 

Jun’s peaceful, relaxed hum made Jeonghan bit his lip in hesitation. “Do you believe in love?” He changed his mind and blurted out anything that came to his mind.

“Of course I do, what kind of question is that?”

“Then what do you think it is like?” Jeonghan snuggled closer to Junhui, who stirred slightly before answering.

“Why are you asking?”

Jeonghan sighed at Jun’s avoidance. “I think it’s like this. The rest of the world not existing. And being happy with no effort. And if this isn’t love, I’m going to be very disappointed.” Jeonghan came as close to a confession as he promised himself he would without being certain his feelings are reciprocated.

Junhui opened his mouth and closed it, and then sighed deeply. Jeonghan wasn’t disappointed. They barely knew each other for two months, and Jeonghan didn’t want to be the overly attached one, even though he had a feeling he already was.

“The Monstercross is tomorrow,” he stated the obvious.

“Mhm.”

“I don’t think I can ask you to drive carefully, hm?” He made that question sound as lightly as possible, while in reality he felt his stomach twist the hardest it’s twisted since the first time he saw the Monstercross race.

The apology in Junhui’s tone was more than obvious. “Not really.” Jeonghan stayed silent, so Jun slowly spoke up again. “I’m sorry…”

Jeonghan didn’t want to tell him to not be.

“Are you going to watch?”

“I couldn’t not watch.”

Junhui turned to his side, and stuck his nose into Jeonghan’s hair. “I bet you’re going to bring me luck. My lucky charm.”

“Don’t say that.” After a second of silence, Jeonghan turned to his side too, facing Junhui. He kissed his adam’s apple softly.

“Jun? Would you maybe want to tell me why exactly you’re… Driving like this?” Jeonghan didn’t want to call it throwing his life away, at least not to Jun’s face. 

Junhui sighed heavily again. “I don’t want to tell you yet. Please.”

Jeonghan really wanted to understand that decision. He couldn’t. He decided to just respect it, and said nothing. He kept lying stiffly in Junhui’s embrace, as the night around them grew purple instead of blue.

“I have something for you, then.” With that, Jeonghan crawled over Junhui to get to the inside of the camper car, and to his backpack. Out of the inside pocket, he fished out an envelope, and gave it to Jun.

“That’s for luck. The lady in the shop said it’s gonna make you safer.”

Junhui opened the envelope, and spilled the contents into his palm. It was a jade charm of a turtle, on a red string, very simple, and very obviously Chinese. Jun smiled, deep fondness in his eyes.

“Thank you, Jeonghan. Really. Can I put it on my bike keys?” Jun looked ready to get up and look for the said keys, but Jeonghan removed both the trinket and the envelope from Jun’s hands, and put it on the kitchenette counter.

“Not now.” He leaned in, and kissed Jun on the lips, pushing on his chest slightly. They found their rhythm right away, and Jeonghan didn’t pull away for long enough for Junhui to put his arm on his waist.

“What’s gotten into you?”

“What if I asked you not to ride?” Jeonghan breathed against Junhui’s lips as soon as the other pulled away.

“I would ride anyway.”

“What if I begged you not to?”

“I would ride anyway.”

“If I threatened to kill myself?” During the entire exchange, neither of them moved even an inch. Jeonghan took pleasure in how his lips brushed against Jun’s when pronouncing some syllables. Junhui’s eyelids fluttered when he sighed.

“You wouldn’t.”

Jeonghan huffed out a laugh. “I wouldn’t ask you not to ride.”

“I know.” Junhui finally leaned in, and kissed Jeonghan again. It was his turn to push on Jeonghan’s chest, making him lie down on the bed. “Thank you.”

Jeonghan didn’t answer. Instead, he pulled Junhui closer by his hair, deepening the kiss like they did so many times before. To make his intention clear, he wrapped his legs around Jun’s middle, and pressed his hips against Jun’s groin as hard as he could. Junhui got the hint, and groped Jeonghan’s thighs, pulling him up.

“Seriously?” He questioned, but his hands were already slipping under Jeonghan’s shirt.

“Yes. I want to do it with the doors open.” Jeonghan arched his back to give Junhui better access to his stomach and ribs. It was warm, not even night yet, and he wasn’t afraid of getting cold. It was empty for kilometers, too. They were safe.

“I bet you packed condoms.” 

“And lube. Front pocket.” Jeonghan detangled his legs from Junhui to let him grab the supplies. Soon, Jun was back on the bed, taking off his shirt. Jeonghan felt happy with how clean his skin has gotten. It was pure tan muscle, unbruised, but with another race that was about to change. Jeonghan pushed that thought away, and took off his own shirt instead, while Junhui helped him unzip his pants and slid them off Jeonghan.

“You’re hard already,” Jun noticed teasingly, and grabbed Jeonghan’s cock through his underwear. Jeonghan held back the moan forming in his throat, and threw his head back. “You really look the most beautiful sprawled on the bed underneath me, you know?” Junhui meant it as a compliment, kissing the inside of Jeonghan’s knee and positioning himself between his legs, but Jeonghan was having none of that.

With little effort, he pulled Junhui down, and then rolled them over, until he was straddling Jun’s lap. “I look god damn great in any position,” he complained, and rocked his hips against Jun’s still fully clothed member. “But you, mister, you look the best without pants,” Jeonghan said while looking straight at Jun’s crotch.

“Are you going to do something about that?” Junhui was smiling, caressing Jeonghan’s bare thighs and taking in the sight before him.

“Yes.”

Slowly, Jeonghan moved off Junhui, and returned the favour of undoing his zipper, and then slid Jun’s pants off, along with his underwear. He lost track of what he was supposed to do, and started kissing Junhui on the thighs on his way up, slowly, until he got to his crotch, bending Jun’s legs and spreading them apart. Then, he felt Jun’s hand in his hair, patting it lightly.

“You want to do me?”

“No, I want to ride you.” Jeonghan looked up and straight into Jun’s eyes. To prove his point, he sat in Jun’s lap, before his dick.

“Oh, god. Right.” Junhui laughed and removed his hand from Jeonghan’s hair. “Can I at least prep you?”

Originally, Jeonghan planned on doing it himself, right above Jun’s dick, and teasing his lover mercilessly, but the thought of Jun’s slender but knobby digits got the better of him. “Yes, do it.” He started getting off Junhui, when the other grabbed him by the hips and kept in place.

“Let’s do it like this.”

“I still have to take off my briefs, tiger.”

Junhui let him go, and Jeonghan got off the bed altogether, to slip off his underwear and throw it somewhere on the floor of the camper van. When he turned around, he saw Junhui ogling him obnoxiously, with a hand on his dick.

“Who’s the eager one, again?” Jeonghan said with a raised brow.

Jun almost lunged himself at Jeonghan, pulling him back onto the bed. “I take that back. I want you on this bed, spread beneath me.” He leaned over Jeonghan so close to his face that his fringe was brushing Jeonghan’s forehead.

“Then do it,” he only answered, before kissing Jun, and tugging on his own cock.

Junhui grabbed the lube bottle and messily squeezed some on his fingers, and roughly coated them before resting them against Jeonghan’s asshole. In return, Jeonghan threw his arms around Jun’s neck, kissing Jun as if his lips were honey sweet. He managed to get completely lost in it, sucking on Junhui’s lower lip and nibbling on his jawline.

When Jun’s finger eased into him smoothly, he inhaled sharply, and clenched his muscles for a second, but then Jun’s lips on his neck reminded him to relax. He let Junhui work a huge hickey right next to his Adam’s apple, and focused on the feeling of first one, then two fingers inside of him.

“Two is enough, just do it already.” He whined from underneath Jun when he felt the man pull out the fingers and then slowly try to push one more in.

“Are you sure?”

Instead of answering, Jeonghan pushed Junhui onto his back, and crawled on top of him. “I’m going to ride you and you’re not going to complain.”

Junhui giggled, and reached behind himself, where he blindly grabbed a condom and put one on himself. Jeonghan kissed him on the mouth sweetly before aligning Jun’s cock with his already waiting ass, and lowering himself on it.

The stretch of Junhui’s dick in him was familiar, but the position added something that made Jeonghan throw his head back in pleasure. Only after a while he was able to move his hips up and then down again, but this time the pleasure got him hooked up on it immediately, and he couldn’t stop bouncing.

Junhui grabbed first his thighs, then his ass, then his waist. When Jun’s hand located itself on Jeonghan’s dick, and spread the beading precome all over it, Jeonghan’s head lolled forward. Afraid of falling forwards, he secured himself by grabbing Jun’s chest, and unconsciously changed the angle of his hips. Suddenly it was perfect, it was hot, it was so good he was losing his mind.

“God, Jun, I’m gonna come.” He groaned out, and experimentally rolled his hips forwards instead of raising them, which was slowly getting uncomfortable with the position he was in. Junhui groaned, and only then Jeonghan opened his eyes.

Jun under him was completely debauched, with his eyes closed, clinging onto Jeonghan’s thighs roughly. He looked like he was close as well, and Jeonghan snapped his hips again. The noise he got out of Junhui told him that indeed, they were both at the edge.

Jeonghan leaned back, and raised his hips slightly, not sliding off Jun entirely. Junhui got the hint, and moved his hands from Jeonghan’s thighs to his hips. Once he grabbed them securely, he pound into Jeonghan, the mattress underneath them creaking with each move. Junhui wasn’t a moaner, but he grunted heavily with the release. Jeonghan wanked himself off silently, and only then eased himself off Jun’s dick.

Junhui tied up the used condom and threw it on the grass on the outside of the van, but Jeonghan just rolled to his side and stared blankly.

“The sun’s down,” Junhui noticed after a while of silence.

“Should we go to sleep?”

“Yeah.”

“Shouldn’t we fold up the blankets first? They’re still out there by the lake.”

“Nobody comes here anyway. We’ll do it tomorrow.” Before flopping down next to Jeonghan, Junhui worked a blanket out from underneath them, and threw it loosely over them waist-down.

“Today was amazing.” Jeonghan wasn’t usually a post-sex sleeper, but he was so tired he couldn’t stop his eyes from closing slowly.

“I’m happy you liked it.”

“Thank you.”

Instead of answering, Junhui scooted over to Jeonghan, and embraced him. He also moved the condoms and lube bottle away, knocking them off the bed

The next day came far too fast. Jeonghan woke up to all the doors of the van closed, and to Junhui with his underwear back on. Nothing else changed, though, and Jeonghan spent the rest of the morning lying calmly, breathing in Junhui’s scent, and battling with his thoughts until Jun woke up and announced breakfast time.

The previous day has been pretty much perfect, so it wasn’t much of a surprise that the next day was a bit worse, even if it was just weather-wise. The clouds started gathering above Jun and Jeonghan’s heads, as they were eating on the blanket by the lake. They barely managed to gather everything up and get back to the van before it started raining. It was a typical summer downpour that started suddenly and ended just as fast. They finished the breakfast sitting on the floor of the van, their legs touching the grass, hidden under the awning. After the initial rain calmed down, it rained shortly two more times before both Jeonghan and Jun decided it was time to stop dicking around and to leave the van. Even before they finished packing everything up, Jeonghan already missed the place.

Buttoning his denim jacket up tightly, Jeonghan hoped his motorbike would deal with the now wet dusty roads fine. Junhui must have shared his worry, because when he was leading the way, he was driving slowly, at least until the road got solid again. They stopped at the parking section by the road they previously met at.

After they both took their helmets off, Junhui immediately went for a kiss.

“Jeonghan, I need to get to my apartment before the race, and then to the mechanic shop. I’ll pull away somewhere near the tenth cross section, okay?”

Jeonghan had no other choice but to nod. “I’ll meet you at the race, yes? By the start line? Before the race?” He remembered seeing people close to the racers near to the starting line at the quarter-finals. 

“Of course. If they don’t let you in when you say you’re Jun’s lucky charm, just call Wonwoo. He’s gonna be there.” After they started hanging out together more, Jeonghan learned that Jun and the barman also called Green Thumb were actually pretty good friends.

Jeonghan wanted to say something, but he found no words. Instead, he kissed Junhui again, and broke free from his embrace. “Go, champ. See you in a few.” He pretended his heart wasn’t breaking.

Junhui smiled honestly. “See you in a few.”

Jeonghan’s way to his own, tiny flat was exhausting, but once he reached it, he felt a little bit calmer. Before, he used to hate the place he lived in - it was filled with nothing but bad memories and old dust. It reminded him of how his parents were always gone, in different parts of the country or in different parts of the world, and how relieved they were to hear that Jeonghan would never bother them again if they only kept paying for anything Jeonghan wished they paid for. It used to be painfully blank, unlived in, and stuffy with nothingness.

But then Junhui happened. When Jun first visited him, he listened to Jeonghan ramble about how he hated his own place, and then brought a big, red blanket, and some pillows, and a head shaking dog toy, and some other gizmos. He also cuddled with Jeonghan literally everywhere, and attempted to chase him around the miniscule kitchen, and filled the place with pleasant memories. Jeonghan started thinking of his flat as of his home.

Jeonghan’s heart was heavy as he washed himself and dressed himself up, and listened to one more short cloudburst banging at his windowsills. The time was coming. Before the sunset, he was already by the open pit mine they were still holding the semi-final at, even after the legal troubles, and calling Green Thumb.

“Hello, Angel?” He picked up finally.

“Yes. I’m there already.”

“Alright, I’ll come pick you up. Be by the banner.” He disconnected, and Jeonghan noticed the whole talk didn’t even last ten seconds. It took him a while to find the banner, but once he did, he immediately found the brunette underneath it.

“Hey, Green Thumb. Uh… Can I ask you something?” Jeonghan was tense and trembling slightly. The thoughts about how dangerous the race was would not leave his head.

“Yes?” Even if Green Thumb’s face was sharp, and his voice low, Jeonghan already knew he had a soft, kind heart.

“Could I go to the mechanic workshop or something? See Jun in private before the race?” He was so nervous he bit his lip and looked down.

Green Thumb smiled, even though technically it was more of a lip stretch. “Actually, I was hoping you’d ask that. He’d kill a man to see you right now. Let’s go to the garage, hm?” He started leading the way between the tire stacks and abandoned construction elements.

Jeonghan was looking around carefully, having a feeling that something had changed since the last time he was there. Finally, he had an occasion to look down the mine pit. “The track changed?”

“Yeah, you noticed. We couldn’t just leave it the same, it would be unfair. Personally, I think it’s less dangerous now. But it doesn’t matter, it’s the semi-final. Things will get rougher anyway.” Jeonghan knew that the closer to the final, the more brutal the competition got, and he only swallowed hard instead of answering. Green Thumb, on the other hand, seemed zen-level calm. Some people stared at them as he lead Jeonghan - or rather, Angel - through something resembling an open metal shack, and do the carport.

“Does Jun know that I’m coming?” Jeonghan asked, when he started recognising the vehicles around him from the quarter-finals.

“No. Should I tell him?” Jeonghan shook his head in an answer, and started walking further. He didn’t have to watch his step, the carport was loud and clustered. Finally, he noticed Jun’s messy hair and retro jacket that he already had on. He wasn’t talking with anyone, or smiling. With a look of stern concentration, he was fiddling with the back fender. Jeonghan walked up to him confidently.

“Your lucky charm is here,” he said loud enough for not only Jun, but also the nearby people to turn their heads.

“Oh god,” Junhui smiled happily. “But you were supposed to be waiting by the start line.”

“I bet they’ll leave a spot for me.” Jeonghan couldn’t help but also smile. He was still nervous, and he thought he must be more stressed than Jun himself.

“They have no other choice,” Jun said, and walked up close to Jeonghan. “God, I want to kiss you right now.”

“Then what’s stopping you?” Jeonghan lowered his voice.

“People are staring,” Junhui answered in an equally low voice. Instead of answering, Jeonghan tip-toed and kissed Jun confidently.

There wasn’t much time, though. Soon, the noise and clatter in the carport intensified, and the riders stated leading their vehicles out. Jeonghan was almost ashamed to admit he only remembered a few, like the blonde girl in a pink oversuit with her gal pals in more or less matching outfits (that, by the way, totally squealed when Jeonghan kissed Jun), or the blonde with a ponytail on the quad (Jeonghan had to admit he did look a bit like a girl, though). After one more kiss and a “good luck”, Jeonghan had to leave, but was fortunately soon found by Green Thumb, who led him to the platform near the starting line.

It was one story above the level of the start line, and the start line itself was moved from the crater to a ramp. From the platform, exactly everything was visible, and that’s why Havi, the commenter from before, was also there. Jeonghan was surprised with how he recognised his bright voice very quickly. He also noticed Woozi, to who he just nodded.

Everything was a flash. Jeonghan didn’t even manage to look at the new track properly. He only noticed that the crater was now one of the longest straight parts, and that much more of the narrow benches were not off-limits anymore. Where there was a sharp turn before, was now a proper hairpin. Some more metal plates were added, and everything seemed to still be a bit wet with the rain from before. And then, as if the world was on fast forward, the racers were on the track already, and Havi was excitedly explaining the rules. He had a childish look to him, and light mahogany hair. All in all, Jeonghan thought he looked and sounded way too bubbly considering people could die any second now.

When Jun was introduced, as the very last one, he had his helmet on, but he still waved once, and then saluted in Jeonghan’s direction. Jeonghan wanted to scream, but he didn’t. Other than Havi and some people talking, everyone on the platform was quiet. To Jeonghan, the roar of the engines on the other hand, never seemed louder. 

The start came way too fast. Jeonghan forgot how to speak, but he suddenly remembered how to curse and scream, leaning over the ledge, as did some of the other people, who, before, seemed even calmer. Jeonghan did realise everyone in there rooted for someone else, but between the people left at the start line there was no hate. In the end, they all just wanted to see their riders unscratched.

Even if the first half of the lap was calm, and consisted mostly of the racers trying to get accustomed to the track, watching Jun was hard for Jeonghan. He didn’t tear his eyes away even for a single second, though. As soon as possible, Jun chose a narrow rock bench instead of the main track, hoping to get some precious seconds in his favour, even if he had no way knowing what was on the other end. Jeonghan remembered how Green Thumb said the race was supposed to be much more brutal than the quarter-finals, and his heart grew even heavier.

During the previous race, Jeonghan was able to observe the entire track, more or less, and notice most of what was happening, estimate what was going on, who was winning. This time, however, it all boiled down to Jun. Junhui on the hairpin, Junhui on the ramp, Junhui doing the crazy jump and landing in a brilliant way, Junhui speeding dangerously and almost crashing into someone even though he could have picked the safer, but a tiny bit longer road. Jeonghan was shouting all the time, but asked later, he wouldn’t be able to recall a single word from what he said.

While doing the third lap, near the last straight run, Jun chose the broader, straighter path, with more metal panels than rock. He pressed the gas, and reached the black streetfighter going in first. And then, just as he passed Hisi, suddenly his rear wheel turned dangerously, and then it turned in the opposite direction, and in less than a blink of an eye his entire motorcycle started shaking in a violent highside. Hisi barely pulled away from that.

And then the bike escaped from under Jun, who after losing his grip on the handles, flew in the completely opposite direction, spinning in the air as if he was a limp doll thrown into the air. The motorcycle spun around its high axis a couple more times, and slammed into the rail. Jun had less luck, though. He tumbled in the air and landed on his backbone with a dull thud, and started rolling against the wet metal plates and down the rock benches, only stopping when his back hit the road railing fence.

Jeonghan could swear he felt his own heart stop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the angst arrived, everyone. I'm kind of sorry but then I'm also not~ Please leave your comments, I'm dying to know what you think!


	5. Heart lines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jun is not alright. Jeonghan isn't either.

After several hours of waiting in the hospital alone, Jeonghan realised one very important thing. Nobody from Junhui’s family came to see him. Nobody had even been informed of Jun’s current well-being, or rather lack of thereof. He was the only person there, by Jun’s side. Numb but also hurting all over at the same time, Jeonghan realised Junhui must’ve had even less people to call his own than Jeonghan had. 

As soon as Junhui arrived at the hospital, he was taken to the doctors to get operated. Jeonghan remembered how pale Junhui was and how hideous he looked covered with an oxygen mask before the white doors closed behind him and Jeonghan was left alone on the sofa. After the surgery ended, Jeonghan got told Jun was still in the medically induced coma, slowly waking up in the intensive care. Jeonghan wanted to see him immediately, but he wasn’t allowed to, so he just kept waiting and waiting.

He started wondering if maybe, perhaps, Jun’s entire family was dead, or if his lover was an orphan, but then someone appeared, proving him wrong. The Chinese woman had something in her face that was strikingly similar to Jun’s own face, be it the nose, the jawline, or the cheeky glint in her eyes. She introduced herself as Wen Linxia, and told Jeonghan she was told to wait here, and that there’s someone else already waiting.

“Can I ask who are you? To him, I mean,” Jeonghan asked, even if it was out of his line to do so.

“His cousin. From the mother’s side. You?”

“His boyfriend. I think.” Jeonghan’s voice was so groggy he felt disgusted with himself. The silence between them was heavy. Jeonghan spoke up again. “Why is nobody else from his family here?”

Linxia shook her head twice before answering. “That’s how Junhui wanted it.” Jeonghan understood null, but he was too tired to tell her that. “He didn’t tell you, right? Then I can’t tell you.” Linxia seemed to understand.

“He barely told me anything.”

“I’m sorry. I really am.”

The silence fell again, uncomfortable and deafening. Even if the rest of the hospital was alive and working, the two sofas occupied by Jeonghan and Linxia were encased in a bubble of total silence.

“I’m sorry I’m so late. I really couldn’t come earlier. The trains are slower than the cars anyway.” She was almost rambling, and Jeonghan nodded, understanding the fear.

“How long can you stay?”

“Not very long. I really wish I could.”

“When he wakes up, you go in first.” Jeonghan offered. It was not his place to demand anything. In the long run, two months are nothing to an entire life of family bonds.

They didn’t speak anymore. Jeonghan didn’t even notice if Linxia was trying to change it. His head kept getting stuck on the images of Jun in various stages of suffering, paleness, on the blood on Junhui’s clothes. When a kind-faced nurse came in, saying that Junhui was awake now and could be visited, and that he was still in shock, Jeonghan thought he already spent a full day sitting motionless.

As promised, Linxia came in first, and only when she closed the door behind herself, leaving Jeonghan to wait, he realised that finally he’d be able to see the man. Suddenly he grew anxious, not knowing what to expect, and the haziness of shock got replaced by the worst kind of itch.

Finally, Linxia came out, tear stains fresh on her face. She stopped before Jeonghan.

“Look, I really have to go. He promised me he’s going to update me on everything. Make him keep it, okay?”

Jeonghan nodded, sincerely keen on nagging Jun to keep in touch with his cousin. Still, he wanted to see Junhui, and he wanted it so bad he kindly excused himself and entered the room.

Junhui was pale, was his first thought. Pale, and dressed in horrendous, white hospital gowns, and he had a thin tube in his nose and across the face, and a cast on his left hand, and some kind of IV drip and a cannula and some cables from his chest and Jeonghan simply refused to look at the machinery around him. Then he noticed Jun was smiling, despite a shadow of pain on his face. Before he could even walk closer, Jeonghan burst into tears.

“Oh my god, are you okay?”

“Yes, Angel, shh. I’m alive. I’m all okay.”

As much as Jeonghan was ashamed for crying and breaking down when Junhui was the one on the hospital bed, he couldn’t stop bawling for a good while. Jun kept repeating that he was alive, and that no, he didn’t know much more for now. Only when Jeonghan smiled, and managed to sit in his chair upright for more than several seconds, Junhui’s smile faltered.

“Jeonghan… While the doctors didn’t tell me much more, I know one thing already.”

Jeonghan grew pale as a wall. “Yes?”

“I can’t feel my legs.”

Jeonghan rose from his chair, and sat down again. He opened his mouth and even if he wanted to say something, he couldn’t find the words. “God.”

“I don’t know anything else yet. I just know that I can’t really move them.”

“Do you not feel them at all?”

“I haven’t exactly poked my skin.”

Jeonghan felt stupid for asking. He also felt light-headed. “So you won’t be able to ride anymore?”

“It appears so,” Junhui said in an almost sing-song voice, and that’s when Jeonghan noticed Junhui was not miserable about that fact at all. He simply reached out to hold Jeonghan’s hand, and Jeonghan fit his thumb around the tubes on the back of Jun’s hand. “I have something more important to tell you, though.”

Jeonghan straightened his back, terrified of what may be more important than the fact, that his lover got paralysed waist-down. “Yes?”

“I love you.”

When looking back later, Jeonghan really wished he haven’t laughed in Jun’s face, but he did. Sharply, and without real amusement. “What?”

“I never told you that before, but I love you. And I promised myself I’m going to tell you that if I finish the semi-finals alive.” Junhui was still holding his hand, and still smiling, looking a bit sheepish. Jeonghan realised that he was serious.

“I love you too, you big doofus,” He said, with a big smile. He felt incredibly happy, and then got angry at himself for feeling so happy when Junhui probably just lost the ability to do the one thing he loved the most. “A lot.” To hide his smile, he kissed Junhui’s bruised digits.

“I’m glad. I’m so glad.”

“How could I not love you?” Jeonghan kept kissing the digits one by one, and when he was done, he leaned in and kissed Jun on the mouth, softly, telling him to not move from his bed.

As the time passed, Jeonghan was surprised at how not terrible everything was. He stayed awake through the entire night, waiting for Junhui and then talking with him. When the doctors came in and announced that Junhui wouldneed to go through several x-rays to determine the state of his spine, but that he should probably start getting used to the thought of staying paraplegic for the rest of his life, he only squeezed Jeonghan’s hand tighter and thanked the doctors.

Jun was weak, very weak, and complained about pain from time to time, when the painkillers wore off, but he was still bright, alive, and the same Jun he was before the accident. Jeonghan weak, looking at how strong Junhui was, but he felt lucky that he could be there next to him at all. They shared some more love confessions, and each time Jeonghan felt the same pleasant warmth in his heart.

After Jeonghan almost fell asleep in the uncomfortable chair, Jun had pretty much forced him to go home, change, sleep for several hours and only then go back.  Jeonghan pretended to agree, but he knew better. Instead, he bothered the hospital staff for half an hour before he got the access to the clothes Junhui was brought in. Then, he contacted Woozi.

First thing he did when he saw the short male was embrace him tightly, and Woozi didn’t have the heart to kick him off. After countless thank you’s, Jeonghan calmed down, and asked Woozi to drive him to the Monstercross track.

Junhui’s crash was very fortunate in many ways. First of all, his motor was barely broken, and after highsiding like that, some bikes ended up in flames. Second, the long slide on the metal plates and the roll down the bench height were much better than hitting cubed cars, which apparently happened to someone else later that race. They died on spot. Last, but not least, Junhui managed to slide and roll and land outside of the track.

When Jeonghan rushed off the platform he was in and to Jun’s aide, they discovered it was actually pretty easy to lift the man and put him on stretchers, and get him away from the track. If he landed on the track instead, though, that would have not been possible, since nobody could enter the track during the race - according to the MX team trying to save a life was not worth risking losing another one.

Getting Junhui out was only half of the success, though, and if not for Woozi, Jun would have died in the open mine pit. Suddenly, Woozi appeared with keys to his car ready, offering to take Jun and drive him out of the mine location, and to a place where they can call an ambulance, or even to the hospital. It was impossible to call an ambulance to the track, after all.

For the entire time Junhui was unconscious, and Jeonghan didn’t leave his side even for a second. Because of that, though, he’d left his motorcycle at the Monstercross parking lot, and had to rely on Woozi once again. Woozi was eager to help, though, and Jeonghan suspected it had something to do with how the flannel shirt he was wearing was strangely similar to the one he remembered as being one of Seungcheol’s favourites. He didn’t comment, though. He asked about Jun’s motorcycle instead, and learned that it had been hauled off to Woozi’s most trusted motorcycle shop. In return, Jeonghan answered all the questions truthfully, telling Woozi that Junhui was not going to appear in the finals, and that nobody knows if he would ever walk again.

Finally, Jeonghan got the hold of his motorcycle again, but wasn’t all he came to the Monstercross track site for. He asked Woozi one more favour, and followed him to the carport, where he retrieved Junhui’s backpack, that nobody ever stopped to think about. In it, other than his wallet, phone, documents and other personal gizmos, there were also the keys to Jun’s flat, which Jeonghan headed to. During the span of two months, he visited the place so many times it almost seemed the second home to him.

He quickly packed the backpack he retrieved with Jun’s clothes and books, a phone charger, and anything else he thought Jun may find useful. The stress of the past day and caught up to him, and suddenly he got so tired he considered sleeping in Jun’s bed, but instead he decided to go to his own place. When riding his motorcycle, he was very careful, and probably went slower than he needed to.

After several hours of heavy, undisturbed sleep, Jeonghan finally got up, and took the city bus to the hospital. He found Jun asleep, though, looking worn down and fragile. Jeonghan fell asleep, too, on the uncomfortable bed, listening to the ECG’s steady beeps and holding the fingers of Jun’s broken hand through the cast.

He barely stirred in his sleep, when he heard Jun’s voice. “Good morning, beautiful.”

Jeonghan had the audacity to stretch obnoxiously before answering. “Good morning. Is it morning?”

“Yeah. And I feel better.”

Jeonghan snorted. “How is that even possible?”

“I don’t know, I just do,” Jun shrugged. “Maybe it’s the medication working.”

“Are you sure you’re not kidding me?”

“I’m not.” Junhui’s smile looked almost as good as it did when Jun was in full health. They just looked at each other for a while, before Jeonghan realised he was still holding Jun’s fingers. He refused to let them go, though, to which Jun replied with a widened smile, and an “I love you.”

“Why are you saying it so much all of sudden?” Jeonghan bashfully looked at his hands instead of at Jun’s face.

“I was holding it back before, so now I’m saying it all I want.”

“Why were you holding back?” Jeonghan was careful to not pull on Jun’s fingers too hard when playing with them.

“This will probably sound stupid, but… I thought that two weeks is a bit short, right? Still, I felt like… This sounds so stupid, and you have the right to deny, but… Like we belonged together. At least I felt this way. And I didn’t think it was really right to feel like this, if not… If it’s not… You know, I had to have a proof that we’re meant to be. And what better proof than the fate allowing me to live, to be at your side?” Surprisingly, the ever-so-smooth Wen Junhui was rambling. Jeonghan suddenly realised Junhui had never spoken about things concerning his feelings before, and if he ever got close to doing so, he would start waffling like that. He felt endeared.

“I love you too. I didn’t say this because I was afraid I’ll end up being the attached one, but I love you,” Jeonghan murmured, to give Junhui some courage. When he didn’t hear an answer, he looked up, and saw Jun staring at him with a happy, blissed out expression. His brown hair was down, covering his forehead and almost falling into his eyes, and his skin was still an unhealthy shade of grey, but he looked happier than Jeonghan ever saw him be.

Without thinking much, he leaned in to kiss Jun. Junhui responded with a content mewl, and then kissed Jeonghan back, and even if they had to pull away quickly in fear of getting caught and stink-eyed by the nurses, Jeonghan remembered that as one of the best kisses he and Junhui ever shared.

Even if he wanted to, Jeonghan couldn’t, and wasn’t allowed to stay in Jun’s room all the time. Not only doctors, but Junhui himself, too, kept kicking him out, telling him to spend some time outside, sleep, eat, maybe meet with friends, especially once he was moved to a normal room rather than staying in the intensive care unit. Jeonghan didn’t care about all that, though, and he kept spending as little time in his house as he could. The outside wasn’t always avoidable, though.

Jeonghan could tell it was getting colder by the day, but it was still warm enough for him to actually take a stroll outside the hospital area and to roam the streets for a bit before coming back to Junhui, knowing that the man would probably still be tired after examinations he had to go through. He passed a store with cheap toys, and something in the shop window caught his attention. Without thinking much, he bought it, along with a gift bag, and headed straight to the hospital with the intention of giving it to Junhui.

Junhui greeted him with a tired smile. “Jeonghan. Nice to see you.”

“Did the doctors bother you too much?” Jeonghan was genuinely worried.

“No, they just did whatever they had to do. All that moving around is just tiring.”

“Do they know what’s up?” Jeonghan avoided all serious words like ‘injury’ or ‘spine’.

“They should know in a few. At least that’s why they told me.” A short silence fell, during which Jeonghan tried to think of something light-hearted to talk about, but Junhui beat him to it. “What’s this bag?”

“It’s for you, actually,” Jeonghan handed him the gift bag and watched Jun’s expression carefully as the man unpacked it.

“A fox plushie?” Jun was puzzled.

“It’s a motorcycle racer, don’t you see? He’s got the goggles.”

“I’m pretty sure those are airplane goggles.”

“No,” Jeonghan sat down in the chair next to Jun’s bed. “It’s a biker fox. Therefore, it’s you.”

“Me?”

“You’re so much like a fox. I can’t believed I’ve only noticed this now.” Jeonghan spoke confidently, and Junhui laughed in response.

“Is that a good thing or a bad?”

“A good thing,” Jeonghan answered after faking deep thoughts. Junhi laughed, and played with the fox in his hands.

“Although I’m not a biker anymore,” He said, and even though his smile didn’t falter, there was a hint of regret in his voice.

“I’m sorry…”

“No, no. It’s okay. I just have to get used to this. It’s just new. I’ll be fine.” Junhui’s smile was sincere, but Jeonghan was still silent in worry. “There are some concerns, though.”

“Like what?” Jeonghan adjusted himself in the chair he became so accustomed with in the last few days.

“Like for example this,” he waved his left hand. It was still in cast. “I can’t exactly grab or push or turn anything while I have this on my arm. And I’m going to be stuck in a wheelchair.”

“No biggie. I’m going to push you around.”

“I kind of hoped for that answer,” Junhui smiled briefly and cheekily.

“Is that all? Then your problems are easily solved.”

Junhui shook his head. “There’s also the fact that my flat is on the third floor, no elevator.”

Jeonghan bit his lip, thinking his proposition over a couple of times before he decided that yes, he’s sure of what he’s doing. “My flat has an elevator.” When Junhui only looked at him with an eyebrow raised, Jeonghan took a deep breath and explained further. “And it’s bigger than yours. There’s only one bedroom and bathroom, though but… You could move in with me. If you wanted to.”

Junhui’s expression was unreadable.

“You don’t have to, I mean, it’s a bit early, We do only know each other for two months after all and--”

“I would love to, but are you sure?” Junhui interrupted him with an unsure smile.

“Yes. I mean, it’s just logical, and I would love to live with you.”

“I’m a paraplegic. On a wheelchair. Are you sure you want me in your flat?”

“I can move the furniture around, it’s not a problem.”

“Won’t you be tired?” Junhui acted almost as if he wanted Jeonghan to take his offer back, but his eyes were sparkling.

“Maybe, but I want to help you.” If Jeonghan knew one thing, it was that he didn’t want to disappoint Junhui in such difficult times. He looked Jun straight in the eye when saying this, and that’s how he noticed Jun was getting glossy-eyed.

“I would love to move in, then.” His smile was as wide as ever.

“As soon as you’re out of the hospital?” Jeonghan reached out to hold his hand.

“Yes. Perfect.” Jun squeezed back. “I’m starting to think that being a cripple isn’t all that bad.”

“You don’t even know yet, doofus. You may be able to walk after all.”

“Will you kick me out of your place, then?”

“I won’t.”

They kissed softly, minding to not go too hard while in a public place, and Jeonghan hugged Junhui the best he could with the position Jun was forced to sit in to keep his back straight. Jeonghan took the fox plushie from Jun’s legs, and put it on the nightstand, and even tried to lower it’s goggles so that they would cover its eyes, but failed to.

“Hey, have you called Linxia?” Jeonghan asked, remembering his earlier promise.

“I sent her a text. I’ll update her once I know more.” Jun looked bashful.

“Alright, let’s say I believe you.” 

They talked for a while longer, and Jeonghan kept stealing glances at the fox toy, wondering why, if his boyfriend was a fox biker, hadn’t he asked about his bike yet. He didn’t get to ask about it, since soon the doctors stepped in and asked him out, wanting to talk with Wen Junhui and Wen Junhui only. It happened before, so Jeonghan calmly waited on a chair just outside the room, meaning to come in as soon as the doctors are out, playing with his phone to pass the time. Finally, he was allowed to come back in. As soon as he did, he noticed Junhui was strangely pale.

“Hey, Jun? What did they tell you?” Jeonghan started imagining the worst thing possible.

“Jeonghan, can you sit down?” Junhui asked, patting his blanket with his functioning hand. Jeonghan sat down and furrowed his brows.

“Remember, when you asked me why am I driving like this? And I told you back then that I’ll only tell you once we’re closer.” Jeonghan nodded, afraid to interrupt Jun.

“I would ask you if you still want to know, but at this point it’s me who wants to tell you. I’m going to skip all the big words, okay?”

“However you wish.”

“See Jeonghan,” Jun turned to look Jeonghan in the eye. His smile was faint, but it was still there. “I’ve got cancer. Acute lymphocytic leukemia. And it’s advanced.”

“Oh,” was all Jeonghan managed to force out of himself.

“So I’ve always known I’m dying anyway, and it’s at the stage where there’s barely any treatment, and all the chances were low. I was dying anyway, so I wasn’t really risking anything, driving like that.”

A heavy silence fell, as Jeonghan tried to process the facts. He did think, once, in his worst nightmares, that maybe Jun wasn’t just crazily confident in his own skills, and that maybe he was dying, like he’s a hero from a bad movie. But he didn’t want to believe that, so he canceled the thought and never let it in again. 

He was forced to process it, though. Jun, Wen Junhui was dying, and he had been dying ever before they met. Jeonghan had many questions, about the treatment, type, prognosis, about everything, but then something else occurred to him.

“Why are you telling me this now?”

Junhui smiled bitterly, and turned his head to look through the window. The sun was peaking. The day was beautiful.

“The MRIs had shown not only severe injuries of the spinal cord but also masses. There’s heavy metastasis. Even if the accident didn’t happen, I would’ve lost the feeling in my legs soon anyway. The injury only messed the tumors up further.”

Jeonghan took a sharp inhale, and Junhui looked back at him.

“There are masses in brain, too.”

Jeonghan didn’t know how long he was silent before he found it in himself to speak. “What is the prognosis?” Jun didn’t answer right away.

“Junhui? What is the prognosis?”

“I don’t have long.”

“How long?” Jun was silent, again. “Junhui, how long?” Jeonghan almost screamed. Terror was eating him alive.

“Weeks, maybe days.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I told you all to prepare tissues


	6. The silence Falls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing is okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't hate me too much after this.

Jeonghan was alright for approximately three minutes. He nodded. He listened to Junhui use some more complicated words to describe his medical condition, but he only understood leukemia, metastasis, masses and spinal cord. He didn’t want to understand more.

And then he felt like he was going to be sick, excused himself, and run straight to the men’s bathroom, where he spent next ten minutes crying his heart out curled up next to a bathroom stall. When someone came in to use the bathroom for it’s actual purpose, Jeonghan had to stop himself from sobbing further. He gathered himself, and went back to Jun’s room, where he immediately felt guilty for running away.

Junhui understood. Even though Jeonghan apologised for crying, he kept bursting into tears, this time resting his forehead against Jun’s thigh, and holding Jun’s hand to his chest. He was very obviously more scared than Junhui was. When Jeonghan was trembling, feeling empty and full of fear at the same time, Junhui was unmoved but also unrelenting in some stagnant kind of sadness Jeonghan could not understand.

“Aren’t you scared?” He asked finally, too tired to think about whether it could make Jun feel bad or not.

“Not really. Rather than that, I’m disappointed. I knew I don’t have much time left, but I thought there was more.”

“Is it really incurable?”

“You’re asking that for the fifth time, Jeonghan,” Junhui sighed. “Please, stop. The masses are too scattered, and the tumors near the spine are pressing on the spinal cord. Before radiation and chemo can even start to work, the mass is going to make me into a vegetable, or I’m going to stop breathing.” The more he talked, the more his expression became pained and bitter.

“Can’t you at least try?”

“Jeonghan, I’ve been growing weak for months. I’ve got leukemia for several years now, my time was up anyway. Stop this.”

Jeonghan stopped. He also walked out of the room, and the hospital, and for the first time in months, he bought a pack of cigarettes and smoked several in a row. The packet had a big “SMOKING KILLS” on it, and after the fifth cigarette he got so sick of the slogan he just threw away the entire pack and walked back to Junhui.

“I’m sorry,” He said as soon as Jun looked at him. “I’m acting like an asshole because I’m scared. But I want to be with you until the end, if I can.”

“I’m never going to get out of this hospital, probably.”

“Then I’ll stay here. I want to spend as much time as I can with you.” He said, and sat back in his chair. Junhui reached out, and Jeonghan got the hint, grabbing his hand and squeezing it lightly. “I want to know as much as possible about you.”

“Where did that come from?”

“When we learn or do something new, the time seems to fly more slowly. I want to maximize my time with you.”

Jun’s expression softened. “I don’t know what to tell you.”

“Did you tell Linxia yet? Speaking of that, what’s up with your family?”

These days, Junhui seemed to make pained expressions more and more. “I don’t want to tell her. Listen me out, Jeonghan,” he added, seeing how Jeonghan got riled up.

“When I first got diagnosed, there were problems with financing my treatment, so I got none, even though I was in a pretty advanced stage. I stayed at home a lot, and everyone knew I was dying. Even my younger brother.” Junhui was fiddling with Jeonghan’s fingers while speaking, even though usually it was the other way around. “I was a burden to everyone, and don’t tell me I wasn’t, because you weren’t there.

“It went on like this for a long time, before I got too sick of it. It was suffocating, and even if I had some lifespan left to use, I felt like I was already dying, and pulling my entire family down. My mother… She suffered so much.

“So I left,” Jun sighed. “I talked with my mother first. Told her I want to use whatever I have left. That I don’t want anyone to follow me, or even to know what happened. I don’t know how, but she agreed. But then Linxia found out, and she actually left China too, just to follow my sorry ass here. Quote unquote, she and mother both wanted someone to be there if something happens. I managed to get her to keep some distance, though. Fortunately. She lives in another city.

“So like that, I left everything behind me and took up extreme biking. I earned money pulling crazy stunts and doing bets. It was good, my life was great. I was happy just doing whatever before I die. I still am,” he looked at Jeonghan sincerely. “My family is free, and I am free. They can live their daily life, and so can I. But if Linxia knew I’m dying, she’d tell mother, get them all here, make them suffer like you’re suffering. I don’t want that.” He paused for a long time, and only then Jeonghan understood it was the end of the monologue.

“Did you really leave your entire life behind, in China?” He asked to buy himself some time to process everything correctly.

“Yes, and I don’t regret it. Otherwise I wouldn’t have met you.”

Jeonghan opened and closed his mouth silently, shocked at the fact that in such moment, Junhui was talking about him. “But…”

“You made everything worth it, Yoon Jeonghan.” Junhui smiled softly, and Jeonghan felt tears pooling up in his eyes.

“I’m so happy that I’ve met you.” He didn’t add ‘even if for such a short time’, but he did think that.

“Me too. I’m happy I could spend my time with you. Even if it was so short.”

Jeonghan refused to admit he thought the same thing just seconds before and he shook his head. “We still have time.”

“With me chained to his bed until I die? It’s not what I’d call quality time.”

“So what? It’s the best thing we can have.”

“Wouldn’t you be happier moving on?”

Jeonghan resisted the urge to slap Junhui across the face. “No.”

“I’m going to bring you down. I mean, I’m dying. That’s a downer.”

“Wen Junhui, I love you. Please shut the fuck up, and never try to make me leave, because I’m not going to.” It was hard catching Jun’s line of sight, but Jeonghan still managed to look him in the eye. They were both silent for a while, and then Jun spoke up, teary-eyed.

“I love you.” It was the only thing he would say for the next few minutes.

After some time, Junhui shook himself off, and asked what Jeonghan wanted to do, and how he planned to keep Jun company. They both agreed that if Jeonghan wants to stay in the hospital - he was allowed to, since as the nurses said, ‘they can bend the rules for the terminal patients’ - he needed more things, and a shower. And a night in his own bed.

Jeonghan did go to his flat, packed a bag, and then cried in the bathtub, and then into his pillow, and then when making morning coffee. On the bus - he dared not ride the motorcycle - his tears had dried off. He found Junhui in a great mood, though, beaming despite being ghastly pale, smiling despite being a time bomb. He was fiddling with the fox plushie, and that was when Jeonghan promised himself not to cry again, not as long as Junhui still lived.

“What are you doing?” He asked, putting the bag on the floor and sitting in his usual chair.

“Thinking about stuff.” He seemed serious in the least crude way possible. 

“What stuff?”

“You have the keys to my place, right?”

Jeonghan nodded. “I still do.” He never gave them back to Junhui, and now there wasn’t really a point.

“I want you to keep them. The rent is prepaid for several months. Do whatever you want with it, okay?”

“Okay,” Jeonghan swallowed heavily. “I’ll try to get the legal stuff sorted.”

“Actually, just keep everything, all my stuff. And another thing,” somehow Junhui managed to keep a smile. “The motorcycle. Do you have any idea what’s up with it?”

“It’s not in pieces,” he said, choking back a laugh. “It’s pretty okay, actually. I know that the mirrors have broken off, and I think the back fender is out. I didn’t look more closely.”

Junhui nodded, and bit his lip. “Can you keep it?”

“Keep what?” Even though the answer was pretty obvious, Jeonghan barked out the question in shock.

“The bike. Please. Keep it, okay? If you want to then fix it, I don’t know, but don’t get it trashed. If it was crashed I’d ask you to give it a funeral.”

Jeonghan laughed, but then straightened up. “Alright. I won’t. Thank you.”

Junhui shook his head. “No, thank you.”

“Why?” Jeonghan laughed silently.

“I wouldn’t be able to rest in peace if I knew someone trashed my precious bike like an old piece of lumber.” To illustrate his anger, Junhui punched the fox plushie. It was barely bigger than his fist, so the sight was comical.

“You know, I’ve always wondered. If the bike is so precious to you, why doesn’t it have a name?” 

Junhui actually thought about it for a while, and only then turned to look at Jeonghan. “There was nobody to name it after.”

“Nonsense,” Jeonghan changed his position and moved the chair even closer to Jun’s bed so that he could lean forwards closely. “You don’t name it after someone. You name it a random name.”

“Random names are boring,” Jun whined.

“Alright. Then if you wanted to name it after someone?”

“I would name it Jeonghan. Or Angel.”

Jeonghan blushed in response, and leaned back. He found no answer.

“Actually, I’ve wondered about that. Why is your nickname Angel? Of all things?”

“My birthday is on October 10th. In Korean you pronounce 1004 the same way you pronounce ‘angel’. I didn’t make this up,” Jeonghan added after seeing Junhui’s doubtful smile. “Seungcheol gave it to me, actually.”

“Who?”

“I mean, S.Coups. The guy I was on a date with the day we met.”

“Wow, I’ve already managed to forget I actually stole you from another guy.” Junhui looked at the fox toy again, bashfully.

“No, no. We weren’t really together. He’s been going after me since high school, but we never worked out.” Jeonghan worried talking about his past love life may sadden Junhui, but the other male was still smiling, still fiddling with the toy.

“Can we talk a lot?” He asked, suddenly.

“Of course. Why?”

“To maximize my time with you.” Jeonghan smiled at his own words, now on Jun’s lips. “And if not, can you please still be beside me?”

“That was my plan all along, Wen Junhui, stop stealing my ideas.” Junhui actually laughed, and for a second it sounded like nothing was wrong.

With time, though, they talked less and less. First Jun started losing strength, and then he started losing his positive approach, too. It started with an urinary bag attached to his thigh one day when Jeonghan came in. Then, Junhui had to accept a nasal catheter when the breathing troubles appeared. Finally, he asked for stronger painkillers, and Jeonghan had troubles with keeping his promise of no tears when he saw how ashamed Junhui seemed for not being able to withstand the pain.

Jeonghan refused to measure the days, but he was pretty sure that in the end, Junhui didn’t stay positive for even a week. Even if Jeonghan tried his hardest to cheer Jun up with mindless talks, small gifts from the hospital shop, or even as little as flowers, Jun was losing strength in every way, slipping through Jeonghan’s fingers, and there was no denying it. Junhui kept looking through the window, at the trees and the barely visible street, and rarely spoke up first.

“What are you thinking about?” Jeonghan asked one day, when the silence got too much for him to bear.

“Minghao.” Jun’s voice was raspy.

“What?”

“Sorry, I-” Junhui cut himself off with a deep sigh. “Xu Minghao. Back in China, he was my closest friend. We got into bikes together, and it’s because of him I even got the idea to join Monstercross.”

“You were biking before you came here?”

“Yeah. My high school boyfriend was a great biker, so naturally,  I got into bikes too. And then he left, but the bikes stayed.”

“Minghao was your boyfriend?” Jeonghan furrowed his brows, and Junhui laughed shortly.

“God forbid. I only started hanging around with him after Mingming, I mean, the boyfriend left me.”

Jeonghan nodded, not able to think up anything to say. Junhui stopped talking for a while, and breathed heavily. After a while, he spoke up again.

“Minghao always wanted to leave China. He was so fascinated by MX, hunting down contestant and fan reports on the internet, looking up informations, things like that. He always wanted to take part in it, you know? As I said, that’s how I got the idea.”

“Did you two fall out?” Jeonghan asked, even if it was obvious, just to keep Junhui talking.

“After I left China never spoke to him again.” He sighed heavily, visibly regretting his actions. “I bet he hates me right now. Actually one of the reasons I always had the helmet on during the races was that I was afraid he ditched school and came here to pursue his motocross dreams, and after seeing me at the at the start line he’d come and beat me up.”

“Wait, ditched school?” Jeonghan interrupted. “Aren’t you twenty two?”

“Oh, Minghao’s younger, and he was doing college.”

“Ah,” he felt stupid for not realising himself. A silence fell over them, as it often did during those  days.

“Jeonghan?”

“Yes?”

“Can I ask you to do something for me?” Junhui’s pained expression had Jeonghan willing to tear up a mountain with his bare hands, just to make it stop.

“Anything.”

“Find Minghao for me. I’m sure he’s going to get into motocross races, and he’d do anything to race in Monstercross. When I die,” Junhui spoke the last words quickly, as if wanting to avoid them. “Find Minghao and tell him what happened. And that I’m sorry.”

Jeonghan nodded, tears pooling in his eyes, before he blinked them away. “I will.”

“Jeonghan?”

“Yes, Junhui?”

“I’m scared.” Junhui confessed with a trembling lip. “I left everyone because I wanted to die alone, but now I’m scared of dying alone. Please. Don’t leave me.”

Before the tears could fall from Junhui’s eyes, Jeonghan wiped at his cheeks, avoiding the thin plastic tubes on his face. “I’m not going to, Junhui. I’m not going to. Never.”

Jun breaking down was a terrible sight. It was as if an ancient edifice, a pyramid, was slowly crumbling under its own weight. His eyes were red, bloodshot to the point where they were of a darker shade than his pale face. Nothing about his features seemed regal and enchanting anymore, instead appearing weird, distorted, comical. So strong and handsome before, weak and brought to his limit, Junhui seemed like the most vulnerable person on earth. Jeonghan cursed the gods, the fate, and everyone he could blame for making Junhui like this.

“I don’t want to die alone.” He repeated, shaking his head softly and refusing to look Jeonghan in the eye. “I just don’t want to be alone anymore.”

“You’re not going to be alone anymore. I’m here, right?”

“Yes,” Junhui finally looked up. “You’re here. Thank you.”

“No, it’s fine.” Jeonghan kissed Junhui’s forehead, first removing his fringe from the way with his nose. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Jeonghan. Don’t leave me.”

“I’ll never leave you.”

And he really didn’t. He and the uncomfortable chair turned into one. He managed to live off of the contents of the hallway snack machine, and short visits to the bathroom. Other than that, he was always there for Jun, either just looking at him when the younger wanted silence, or talking with him about anything and everything when the younger wanted a distraction.

One time, after a brief trip to the loo, Jeonghan came to the conclusion that even if he knew from the start than Junhui was dying, he’d still get in a relationship with him, that’s how much he treasured all the moments they’ve spent together. He wanted to tell that Junhui, but when came back, he noticed a crowd of doctors in Jun’s room. Panicked, he rushed to it, but was not let in, and only managed to listen to the nurses talking.

“What time is it?”

“Twelve fourty-two.”

“Time of death, twelve fourty-three.”

Jeonghan didn’t leave Junhui. Junhui left him.


	7. Red envelopes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for being so patient with me and this fic!! I know I left you waiting for long, I am very, very sorry. Please, enjoy this new chapter.

Over the span of next three days Jeonghan was only able to think of the word “numb.” When he phoned Linxia, telling her Junhui was dead. When he packed up Junhui’s belongings, told Linxia Jun wanted him to have all his things, including the keys to his flat. When he got up and walked the entire distance from the hospital to his home, even if that was the single longest walk he ever took. All numb.

And then, he felt disgusted with himself, for not even being sad after his lover, boyfriend, entire world disappeared. Just numb, numb to the point where he couldn’t even be shocked at how little a human being could feel.

Only after he realised his phone’s battery had ran out a long time ago and he watched it plonk back to life after being plugged in, he saw the time and date, and realised three days had passed since Junhui died. That thought hit him so hard he barely changed his clothes before rummaging through the bag with Junhui’s things, fishing out the keys to his flat.

When climbing the three flights of stairs, before opening the door, something deep inside Jeonghan had hoped he was going to see Junhui in there, all fine, unharmed, alive. Once he got inside, though, the emptiness of the flat hit him as if he was slapped across the face. Finally, he broke down, and cried, touching all the furniture and every small gizmo Jun had previously owned, left in disarray or solicitously displayed on a shelf. His face almost hurt, now that he was making expressions after several days of nothingness and his throat was acting up on him, used to shout after a long while of silence. Jeonghan broke down, on the carpet, realising once again that Junhui was dead, and nothing would bring him to life. It took him several long minutes to get up again, and still with tears in his eyes, go through the rest of the house. Just when he thought he was alright, he reached Junhui’s bedroom and bed.

Remembering how they used to lay there, sit there, and have sex there wasn’t the worst,  even remembering how they first woke up in it together wasn’t the worst. The very single worst punch he received when he examined the little red something he noticed between the nightstand and bed mattress, and found it to be a red tassel with a jade turtle. He cried on Jun’s bed for so long he fell asleep, and when he woke up it was the evening.

He returned home to find his phone cluttered with missed calls and worried messages. Hating the words, Jeonghan sent a mass text, a simple “Jun is dead.”

Amongst the messages, he noticed one more message, from the phone number he didn’t save, but recognised immediately when he read the text. It was Wen Linxia, inviting Jeonghan to Jun’s funeral, taking place in two weeks. The distant date was such a surprise for him, that instead of writing back, he decided to call.

"Yes? " When Linxia picked up, her voice was hoarse, and tired.

"Hello, it's Yoon Jeonghan." Jeonghan's own voice wasn't any better. He almost got scared of the way he sounded like a dead person.

"Yes. Hello." Awkward silence.

"The funeral. The text says it's in two weeks." Jeonghan didn't know where to start.

"Yes."

"It's a bit of a long wait, isn't it?"

"There is a lot to be ororganised. Jun’s parents have to come all the way from China."

Jeonghan nodded before realising that Linxia can't see it over the phone. "Alright, I understand. Thank you for the information."

"Anything else I could help you with?"

"Who is going to be there, on the ceremony?"

"Just the closest family, I think. I don't expect many people. It's going to be a very small ceremony, Jeonghan."

"Can..." The words wouldn't leave his mouth, but he found the strength to do it. "Can I bring someone? His friends. Bikers."

He heard Linxia sigh deeply before answering. "Yes, I guess. Just make sure they're respectable."

Jeonghan wasn't sure what that was supposed to mean. "I will."

There simply wasn't anything more to say. They stayed in silence until Linxia finally asked, "Anything else?"

With a heavy heart, Jeonghan thanked her and disconnected, and added her number to his contacts right away to avoid future confusion. It was still the evening, not yet the night, and he decided to contact Jun's friends right away. During the two months that he spent with Jun he grew to know Green Thumb and Woozi better, and even hung out with them once or twice. Apparently Green Thumb knew Junhui before Jun joined the race, and Woozi was the only one in the entire MX team who didn't feel even slightly negative about Jun. Having them present at the funeral seemed only right. Jeonghan pressed Woozi's number.

"Angel? Are you okay?" Woozi seemed really concerned, and he picked up real fast.

"Jun's funeral is soon," He managed to choke out, instead of answering the question.

"God, Angel, you sound fucking terrible."

"I know. It doesn't matter."

"Alright," Woozi sighed heavily before letting whatever Jeonghan told him in. "Funeral."

"Yes. It's in two weeks exactly. You'll come, right?"

"I'm sorry, Angel..." Jeonghan went pale, but continued listening. "We don't come to the funerals."

"What?"

"MX team doesn't come to the funerals of people who died in race. The track was the grave. It's kind of one of the rules."

Jeonghan had to take a couple of deep breaths before speaking up again. He tried not to shout. "What the actual fuck? A human died and you're not even going to say your goodbyes? It's Junhui, not some random person on the street!"

"Angel, please," Woozi's voice was calm and stern. "He died fast, the way he would have liked to die."

"Woozi, he didn't die on the track! He died in the hospital. Sick. From cancer."

"That doesn't really matter, you know? I'm sorry, Angel. But those who join Monstercross throw their entire lives away. We don't do funerals. I'm really sorry." There was a silence, as Jeonghan had no idea what to say in the face of such betrayal and disrespect.

"I can't believe you."

"Please pay the respects in my name too, though. Jun was a good man."

"Junhui."

"Excuse me?"

"Wen Junhui was his real name," Jeonghan spit out before he could stop himself, and then disconnected without as much as a second word. Still enraged, he searched for Green Thumb's number and pressed it quickly, hoping that at least the bartender will have some sense.

"Green Thumb? Jun is dead." He didn't give Green Thumb any time to say his hellos.

"I know. I saw the text. What is it? I can't really talk."

"The funeral. You're going to come, right?"

There was a heavy silence, and Jeonghan knew the answer before the deep voice announced it. "Angel, I can't."

"Fuck you and your MX rules, you're not even the part of the team."

"I actually am. Who do you think passes the information around? And get this: my boyfriend was a contestant a year ago." For a second he sounded more like Wonwoo than Green Thumb. 

Jeonghan felt ashamed for letting his emotions get the worse of him just a second ago. "Oh."

"And I had to face the consequence of not going to his funeral if he dies. Can you imagine what that's like?"

"I can't. Sometimes I think you all have no heart. Go back to your business, Green Thumb."

On the other end of the line, Green Thumb sighed heavily. "I'm sorry. I really am."

Jeonghan disconnected without answering. He had a short breakdown, curled up on his bed, pulling at his long, blonde hair, before he gathered himself together again, and with his phone in his pocket this time, went to the 24/7 store downstairs.

Grocery shopping cleared up his head. He resented the thought of going to the funeral alone, and if nobody even remotely related to the MX team wanted to go, he just had to find someone who was not tied to the motocross. He happened to know only one person that knew about Jun’s existence, and who had nothing to do with Monstercross races, and that just happened to be someone Jeonghan had not talked with for over a month. When unloading the plastic bag full of yoghurts, bottled water, rice crackers and other long-lasting food-like products, he had made up his mind.

Despite it being night rather than the evening, Jeonghan dialed the number instead of texting. After a few rings, a warm, deep voice welcomed him.

“Jeonghan?”

“Seungcheol. Long time no see.” Jeonghan managed to keep his voice from shaking.

“You haven’t called me in forever. What’s up? Why are you calling so late now?” Oblivious to just how exactly Jeonghan had spent his past months, Seungcheol seemed bright and happy.

“There’s a lot I have to tell you. Can we meet?”

“You sound serious.” As always, Seungcheol could see through Jeonghan’s front.

“Yes, it’s serious.”

“What happened?”

“This is not a thing to be talked about over the phone.”

Seungcheol sighed in defeat. “When do you want to meet?”

“Is now okay?” Jeonghan blurted out before he remembered what the time was.

“Yes,” there was only a short delay before Seungcheol spoke. “Where do you want to meet?”

“Your place?”

“Wouldn’t yours be better?”

Jeonghan looked around his apartment, forced to notice how it looked just as it did when Junhui was alive. Jun was dead, Jun was no more, but the world refused to stop and collapse, even if Jeonghan felt like it should. “No. your place.”

“Fine, come whenever, yes? I just hope you’re alright.” Seungcheol sounded sweet, but Jeonghan didn’t have it in him to be moved. He muttered a greeting and hung up, and then tried to stop the tears from flowing for several minutes, before he was able to get up.

When going to Seungcheol’s, he took the bus, still wary of the motorcycle. Even if they hadn’t talked for a long time, Jeonghan remembered the route from the bus stop perfectly, and soon he was knocking on Seungcheol’s door. The face the older made upon seeing Jeonghan at his doorstep made Jeonghan feel like he was starring in a horror movie.

“God. You look terrible.”

“Thanks,” Jeonghan threw Seungcheol a wry smile.

“Come on in, are you cold?”

Jeonghan shook his head. “No. You can get us a tea, though. Or a beer.”

“I have beer. Sit down, I’ll fetch it.”

Seeing Seungcheol’s flat again made Jeonghan feel slightly better, and safer. It wasn’t very different from when he first moved out right after finishing the high school.The posters changed with time, the shelves got more orderly, the TV got bigger. Other than that, it was all pleasantly familiar. Seungcheol returned with two open beers and put one in front of Jeonghan, who greedily sipped on it.

“So?” Seungcheol got comfortable on the sofa, while Jeonghan remained hunched, legs crossed.

“Remember when I ditched you and left you with Woozi in the Black Tar?” Jeonghan decided to start from the very beginning.

“After that race? Yes. I thought we talked about that already.” It was true, Jeonghan called Seungcheol later to apologise and reconcile, and it went well, even if afterwards Seungcheol’s attempts on setting another date were not very fruitful.

“Remember that racer that got the first place? Jun?”

“I do,” Seungcheol nodded. “Woozi was raving on about him.”

“I kind of hooked up with him that night, and…” Jeonghan stopped for a while, realising he was about to say ‘we are a thing now’, before he remembered that those words are no longer applicable. “And we were a thing for a while.”

There was something sour in Seungcheol’s expression, and Jeonghan knew it had to do with the still undying crush Seungcheol had on him. He tried really hard to not let it show, though. “Did you break up?”

Jeonghan snorted. “I wish. He died. Just recently.”

“God…” All of sudden Seungcheol moved up, and put his hand on Jeonghan’s knee, trying to console him. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“He told me he had leukemia, and was dying, and there was metastasis and… I don’t even know, he just disappeared suddenly. He didn’t even die on track.”

Seungcheol shifted in his seat again. “I heard he had an accident.”

“Yes, but that doesn’t even matter.” Jeonghan waved his hand and sipped on the beer, hoping for the alcohol to loosen up his muscles.

“I’m so sorry.” It was obvious Seungcheol had no idea what to say, even if he was deeply worried.

“I want you to go to his funeral with me.” Jeonghan raised his gaze from the beer bottle and looked Seungcheol straight in the eye.

“Why me?” He shifted nervously.

“I don’t have anyone else. The people in the bar and from the racing team are saying it’s a rule to not fucking go to the funerals.” Even talking about that was getting him riled up.

“I didn’t even know him.”

“Seungcheol, please,” Jeonghan’s voice was pleading. “I don’t have anyone else. I don’t want to go there alone. Please.”

The silence was short, but heavy. “When is it?”

“Two weeks from now.”

“I’ll go.” Seungcheol frowned further, and only then Jeonghan lowered his gaze.

“Thank you.”

“Where?”

“I have the details on a text, I’ll send them to you later.” Jeonghan waved his hand shortly enough, and decided to something not very wise. He put the beer on the coffee table nearby, and lowered himself to his side, ultimately putting his head in Seungcheol’s lap carelessly.

“Jeonghan?”

“Can I stay here?” His voice was barely above a whisper.

“Why?” Seungcheol lowered his voice as well.

“I don’t want to go back to my flat. There’s too much Jun inside.”

Seungcheol sighed. “Do you have your things?”

“I don’t, but I don’t care.”

“You can stay.”

“Thank you.”

That night Jeonghan insisted to sleep on the sofa, letting Seungcheol take the bed. He didn’t shed any tears, but his sleep was heavy, stiff, unpleasant. No nightmares haunted him, but he woke up feeling as tired as if he never even closed his eyes. Looking through the window, watching the clouds move across the sky and waiting for Seungcheol to wake up as well, he thought about Junhui, about how happy he was during those two months they spent together, and about everything Jun told him when they were in the hospital, promising himself to remember Jun at his best.

It was almost as if the stay at Seungcheol’s allowed him to start functioning again. One by one, he started returning to his old ways, from before he bet Junhui. It was painful. Every day he felt like there was a gaping hole somewhere in his body, and Jun’s absence was loud, flashing, hurtful to the eyes, even if Jeonghan couldn’t put a finger on what exactly it was that made him miss Junhui so much. Even so, his body still wanted food, sleep, sunlight, and he found himself dragging his body through all those routines, slightly less numb, never less empty. Eventually the two weeks passed, but he knew what to do and where to head.

Before the funeral he visited Junhui’s place again, this time managing not to cry, and took Junhui’s biker jacket with him. If he knew anything, he knew it belonged with Jun in the afterlife, and that he ought to put it in the casket. The location of the funeral was somewhere outside the city, and Jeonghan took the train, feeling a little bit hot, but refusing to loosen up the tie. Even though he lost weight, and his face was sunken, he still looked great in a suit. He hated it.

Following the directions from his phone, Jeonghan finally arrived at his destination, and that’s when he realised he had probably made a big mistake. The place had an elegant black sign reading “Chinese Wah Lai Funeral Home” and was not what Jeonghan had expected. Seungcheol was nowhere to be seen, but Jeonghan was running out of time. He tried calling Seungcheol four times, two times reaching his voicemail and two times hearing that the number he was trying to reach was currently unavailable. Hoping for the best, with heavy heart, Jeonghan entered the building.

It was all a blur. A man approached Jeonghan, asked for who Jeonghan was there, nodding upon hearing the answer, directed him to an upper floor and dropped him off in a room. There were chairs along the walls, Junhui’s old, but flattering photo surrounded with flowers and incense. Linxia, a very sad woman Jeonghan assumed to be Junhui’s mother, and a young boy who he recognised as Fengjun, Jun’s little brother he heard a lot about when Jun was withering away in the hospital bed, all dressed in white. Another young man, no older than Jun was, who Jeonghan had never seen before. And no coffin.

The woman was bowing in front of the photo, and soon after her Linxia was too. Not knowing what to do, after a short while of nothing happening, Jeonghan approached the photo and bowed in a similar fashion, and returned to the back of the room, with a feeling that something was definitely wrong. After him, went the young boy. Watching the pre-adolescent bow, Jeonghan suddenly felt his arm being gripped.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” announced a quiet voice somewhere from above Jeonghan’s ear. He turned around, and faced the sharp-eyed, sharply-dressed, black-haired man.

“Huh?” He managed to whisper back before setting his arm free.

“Never been to a Chinese funeral, yes? Stay here, I’ll bow now, and then I’ll tell you everything.” Jeonghan watched as the stranger did just what he said what he’s going to do.

With the help of Linxia, Junhui’s mother tried to approach Jeonghan, but then someone approached the door to the room, and looked at her menacingly. She only nodded to Jeonghan before walking out of the small funeral room to have a chat with who seemed like the staff member. Linxia assisted her. The boy in white - Fengjun - was sitting on a chair calmly. The tall black haired man was still by the photo. In that short second, Jeonghan felt like he was the loneliest man in the universe, and that Junhui never deserved a funeral like that.

“Let’s go to the fire room, I’ll explain everything.” The man said after catching Jeonghan’s attention. He motioned to the door just next to the altair-like space. Jeonghan gladly entered, and sat by the small table inside, eyeing the huge bag of paper standing next to it.

“Are you Minghao?” He blurted out when the man took the seat in front of him.

“Who?” The stranger shook his head with a straight, sharp-teethed smile, that seemed very out of place. Jeonghan noticed a pattern. “No. I’m Yao Mingming.”

“Yoon Jeonghan. Nice to meet you.” Mingming made no effort to extend a hand in Jeonghan’s direction, and neither did Jeonghan. “So what was all that about?”

“There’s an order you’re supposed to go in. First, the family, and then the rest.”

“Oh.” Jeonghan said, and looked down. He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. And this room?”

“You really don’t know, hm? You take this paper, and you fold things, like, gold ingots usually, or other things. And then you burn them, so whoever you’re burying can have those things in the afterlife.”

“There’s a lot I don’t know, it seems.”

“Didn’t you read up before coming?” Mingming took some paper from the bag and started folding it up meticulously. “Take a sheet, I’ll show you how to make gold ingots.”

Jeonghan obeyed and started mirroring Mingming’s movements. “I didn’t realise it’s a Chinese tradition funeral,” he admitted, not having it in him to be ashamed, but also feeling like he should be.

Mingming nodded. “Many people these days chose western style funerals, so I can’t blame you. Fold this in here.” 

Surprised, Jeonghan focused on the sheet of paper for a while, wordlessly following Mingming’s lead, not seeing how the small paper could turn into anything with what they’ve done so far. His mind drifted off; he forgot to speak.

“Were you his boyfriend?” Mingming’s voice cut the silence sharply.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m sorry, is it too much of me to ask? I thought that you must be, because friends usually come in bigger bunches.”

“I was,” Jeonghan answered, even if he wanted to ask how Mingming knew Junhui was gay, but then he realised who Mingming must be. “And you too, right?”

His expression fell. “Did he tell you anything?”

“Not much,” Jeonghan shook his head. He was getting hot, but refused to take off the suit jacket. Instead, he moved the leather jacket from his knees and draped it over the back of the chair.

“Is it his?” Mingming asked, pointing to the jacket with his head.

“It was. You know that he did motorcycles, right?” Jeonghan asked before remembering that Mingming was the one to show him the motor world.

“I would have thought he’d never quit.”

“A lot of people think he died in an accident. He didn’t, it was cancer.”

Mingming didn’t answer. He stopped folding the paper, and for a second, he looked like he wanted to smash it and shred it to pieces, but instead, he took a deep breath. “Why did you bring the jacket?”

“I wanted to put it in the casket. And the keys, too.” From the breast pocket of the jacket, Jeonghan took out the keys to Jun’s beloved motorbike. He fondled with them and then put them back inside. “Figured Jun would want it there. But uh, there’s no casket.” Jeonghan ended with an award cough.

“There is, it’s just hidden for the most of the funeral. It’s behind this door here.” Mingming seemed to know everything. Jeonghan resisted making a sour face at him. They both remained silent. 

Suddenly, Jeonghan realised something, mainly a lack of a certain person. Seungcheol was still gone. Jeonghan fished out his phone from his pocket and checked it. He saw two missed calls, both from Seungcheol, and from several minutes ago. Congratulating himself on his timing, Jeonghan decided to not get up and just type a message.

“Can’t talk. Where are you??”

He passive aggressively added one more question mark than needed. Seungcheol texted back fast. 

“There was a train crash. Car trashed across the rails. I’m in the middle of nowhere with signal problems and there’s only trains back home.”

After reading the text over twice, Jeonghan suppressed the need to smash his phone to pieces, and instead turned it off and tucked into his pocket, leaving Seungcheol to himself.

After his first one came out successful, Jeonghan kept making paper ingots, one after another, like he was in a trance, and tossing them into fire. It felt like he was helping Junhui somehow, even if there was no actual thing being done, not as if anything could have been done when Junhui was long dead. Mingming was patient, silently explaining Jeonghan the things he didn’t know, but it was the kind of patience people have when they want to look good, not when they really care. At least, that’s how Jeonghan felt.

When Mingming got up and excused himself for a second, instead of making another ingot, Jeonghan grabbed a tiny pencil he noticed lying around and used it to draw a dual sports motorcycle with a high fender, and then poke the motorcycle shape out of the paper. He tossed it in the fire quickly, worrying about someone coming in and catching him in the act.

Mingming was still nowhere in sight, so Jeonghan decided to do yet another stupid thing. Feeling like he was breaking some kind of taboo, he approached the door Mingming pointed out before. It had a window, and even if the other room was entirely dark, Jeonghan hoped he would be able to see Junhui’s body in the casket. He tiptoed and used his hands as binoculars, and almost caught a sight of Jun, when he heard a noise. He moved back so fast he almost stumbled.

It was Linxia, who seemed to not notice whatever Jeonghan was doing. Her face, usually so beautiful, was now a picture of sorrow and fatigue that run deeper than bones.

“Listen, auntie really wanted to talk to you, but she can’t. The funeral house is giving her a lot of shit for having Junhui’s ceremony here.”

Jeonghan didn’t really understand. “Oh,” he stepped in place and cleared his throat.

“It’s because he’s younger than us. Traditionally parents shouldn’t pay respects to their children like that, but we couldn’t not do it.” She was distraught.

“My condolences. And I’m sorry about the bow thing.”

Linxia shook her head. “I know you didn’t know, it’s okay. Mingming talked to you, right? I hope he explained everything.”

“He did.”

“I have to go now, but the ceremony is ending soon. I want to talk to you after it, alright? So please, stay a bit.”

Jeonghan nodded. “Of course. However long it takes.”

“There’s a cafe outside,” Linxia finally looked up. “If it takes long. It will probably take about two hours, the cremation.”

Jeonghan swallowed heavily. “Of course.”

With an awkward nod, Linxia left, and Jeonghan soon followed her, taking the jacket with him. When Mingming noticed him, he approached Jeonghan quickly.

“The ceremony is ending soon. Sit down.”

“What is going to happen next?” Jeonghan asked after a short awkward silence after they both took their seats.

“The family is going to walk around the coffin. Usually it’s every family branch, but in this case it’s going to be short.”

Not knowing how to answer, Jeonghan nodded. There seemed to be a repeating pattern going on, of Mingming being the smart guy, Jeonghan nodding, and foreign things happening. Mingming had a strange charm about him, though, and Jeonghan could see how people could be attracted to him, even if he seemed unsympathetic to Jeonghan personally.

As Mingming announced, soon the casket was brought out. Then, Mingming leaned in, and whispered closely into Jeonghan’s ear.

“Which year were you born in?”

“Ninety five, why?” He whispered back.

Mingming threw his eyes around as if remembering something. “You can’t look.”

“What?” Jeonghan almost raised his voice.

“It’s a horoscope thing, you’re the unfortunate sign. You can’t look at Junhui, it brings him bad luck. You can’t look.”

Jeonghan bit his lip, not knowing what to answer. He clenched his fists on Jun’s jacket so hard he briefly wondered if his short fingernails can break through the leather, but he dared not look up. Not when he saw the remains of the Wen family step in a row and then around the coffin, where they disappeared from his line of sight, and then back. And then some men came in, and came out, much slower, and Mingming got up, buttoning his shirt.

“That’s it. He’s going to get cremated, but the official part is over.” He said and extended his arm waiting for a handshake. “My condolences.”

Jeonghan shook his hand absently. His mind was stuck on “that’s it”. No more Jun. Gone from his life. Jeonghan never exited a building so fast without actually running. The sight of the cafe, almost vis a vis the funeral house, reminded him he was supposed to wait for Linxia, and so he did, ordering anything. More than the coffee, he was more occupied with the engine keys he took out of the jacket’s pocket, and started playing with. He barely noted when he finished the coffee and the waiter came in offering a second one, which he did not decline.

As if he was stuck, he just went with the flow of the events until Linxia came, making a beeline between the tables. She sat directly in front of him, and handed him a small red envelope.

“What’s this?” Jeonghan’s voice was sore from how he stayed silent.

“A gift. Take it. Everyone gets those, you forgot yours.”

Jeonghan thanked her with a nod and opened the envelope, finding a tissue, a coin and a small candy inside. He didn’t understand anything, so he just questioningly stared at the items in his hand until Linxia spoke up again.

“Tissue for tears, money for safe travel home, sweets to wash away the bitterness of the ceremony. It’s a custom.”

Jeonghan sighed and put the items back into the envelope. “Thank you. What did you want to talk about?”

Linxia nodded in the direction of Jeonghan’s knees. “It’s Junhui’s, right?”

Looking at the state of the leather, Jeonghan realised he must have been holding it tight the entire time. “Yeah,” he simply nodded.

“Why don’t you let it go?” She asked with a sour expression.

Jeonghan gaped. “What do you mean?”

Linxia sighed. “I’m sorry, I’m a bit harsh. But I’ve had a long day. Listen, Junhui was dying before you met him, he was already wasting away. I knew about that and I had the time to learn he’s going to go away, disappear, and that I should let him go. You had less time, but the more you’re going to cling to the memories, the more you’re going to suffer. Please, understand that.”

Even if Linxia’s words were softly spoken, they shook Jeonghan deeper than any shout. “What the hell?”

“That’s the wise thing to do. If not, you’re going to end up like him.”

“I don’t know what’s your deal, but I’m not going to forget him.”

“That’s not…”

“That’s not what you meant?” Jeonghan cut in, angry. “Well, that’s certainly how it sounded.”

Linxia lowered her head. “I just buried my brother. I will forever remember him. But I have to understand he’s dead. You have to, too.”

“He’s never coming back, but I’m never forgetting him. Take your sweets,” he bitterly put the envelope back on Linxia’s side of the table, fished some money out of his wallet and put it on the counter. “I’m going.”

“Throw the jacket away.” When Jeonghan stopped dead in his tracks, she continued. “And the keys. They’ll bring you misfortune.”

“No way.” With that, Jeonghan walked out on Linxia.

After boarding another train and arriving back at home, Jeonghan’s feet carried him to his house as if he was on autopilot. There, he threw Jun’s jacket somewhere he wouldn’t have to look at it, along with the keys stashed safely in its pocket. He also changed from the stuffy suit. Lastly, with a merciful thought, he turned on his phone, and checked it. It was full of missed calls and apologies from Seungcheol. Jeonghan turned it off again.

Between one late night grocery shop trip and another, Jeonghan found himself buying less actual food and more alcohol. He was always downing it all alone, with nobody to tell him when he had too much, or to hold his hair when he was puking his stomach out. Sure, there were people reaching out to him, someone was even knocking, but Jeonghan didn’t want to answer. Drinking made it too easy to forget about everything for him to risk someone coming in and taking away the only thing that held back the memories of Jun.

Junhui seemed to be imprinted everywhere, in everything that surrounded Jeonghan. The bed was a place he could never see the same way again, kitchen was infested with memories of laughter and burned popcorn, the meaningless litter on the shelves and around the sofa screamed of someone else’s presence. Even the walls seemed to be inlaid with Jun’s shadow. 

Sometimes the stuffy apartment got too much for Jeonghan to bear, and he would venture out, usually by the evening or in the middle of the night, mostly drunk, roam the streets with no real goal, purposefully avoiding everything that could have reminded him of Junhui. Sometimes he would stop in the middle of the bridge he was crossing, and look down into the water, trying to stop his head from spinning and think up good reasons to stay alive. Sometimes, just sometimes, when he couldn’t think of anything, he would sit on the handrail, look down, and wonder whether he was too drunk or too sober to kill himself.

The handrail was cold to touch, and never mind his hands, but Jeonghan’s butt was freezing from sitting on the rail for god knows how long. It had to be middle of the night, or maybe just before the dawn, since during that entire time, nobody bothered to come. Jeonghan slowly slipped off the rail, carefully putting the heels of his feet between the bars of the rail, and fixed his grip.

It was so, so cold. The wind was tousling his hair back and forth. The water beneath him was most welcoming, dark, impenetrable, chaotic and calm at the same time. Staring at it made Jeonghan feel like he was sobering up, and he actually realised what he was about to do. But then he remembered his apartment, full of empty bottles and Junhui, his life, that suddenly seemed emptier and more miserable than ever. Was it really so wrong to kill himself?

He couldn’t make the decision, push the impulse through and make himself jump, but it didn’t matter seeing as his grip on the rail was weakening by the moment. Death was benevolent as ever. Another of his fingers threatened to slip off the cold, rusted metal. Jeonghan let it. Just as he felt himself fall forwards, a voice rang not so far from him.

“Oh my god, Yoon Jeonghan?”


	8. In memory

Jeonghan was sitting curled up in an unfamiliar, but comfortable armchair, nursing a cup of lukewarm tea in his hands. The person in front of him shifted awkwardly in their seat, and reached out to grab Jeonghan’s hand in theirs even more awkwardly.

“I don’t know what to say.”

Jeonghan looked at his friend’s long, slender fingers, elegant fingernails, and then up, at his slender but muscular arms, his handsome face with long nose, wide mouth, usually stretched in a smile, but now crestfallen. Jeonghan didn’t expect anything else after confessing what the past months looked like for him.

“Thank you for listening, Seokminnie.” He felt the need to say his friend’s name like he used to before things spiraled out of control.

Seokmin was a couple of years younger than Jeonghan, but the two stuck together quite a lot anyway, eating lunches or skipping classes together throughout the entire high school. It was solely Jeonghan’s fault that they hadn’t been staying in touch.

“So what are you going to do now?” Seokmin asked, as if Jeonghan hasn’t been asking himself the same question for weeks. 

“I don't know,” he answered truthfully. “I just can't deal with the fact that Jun’s gone.”

“But that doesn't mean you never will. Or that there is nothing to live for.”

“I’m just really not coping.” Jeonghan sighed, and Seokmin snorted. 

“I can see that. I mean, you look awful, and when is the last time you were sober?”

Jeonghan thought about that honestly. “Probably some time a week ago. Or two weeks ago. Depends on what day it is.”

“Monday,” Seokmin sighed. 

“Then two weeks.” Hearing that, Seokmin sighed again. 

“Aren't you going to find that Minghao?”

The realisation slowly dawned upon Jeonghan, making him feel even more terrible than he already felt. “To be honest, I haven't even thought about that. I’m awful.”

“I wouldn’t use such a strong word.”

“It was his death wish and I-” Jeonghan halted mid-sentence and decided to change its course. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“You could try asking Linxia, maybe she knows something?” 

“Or I could start looking around in the motorcycle society. Junhui said Minghao loved MX.”

“The races?” Seokmin’s expression fell. 

“Yes, those.” For some reason Jeonghan felt close to tears. 

“You shouldn't get involved in them, Jeonghan. It's dangerous, so dangerous I don’t even have words for it. It’s basically throwing your life away, as you said.”

“I said that because Jun was driving more recklessly than the rest,” said Jeonghan, lips pressed into a thin line.

“It’s too risky, Jeonghan. Don’t get yourself involved with that. Please. The MX races are the most awful thing I’ve heard of and I wouldn’t be able to be friends with anyone who does them, and I don’t want to stop hanging out with you just after we met again.”

Jeonghan only shook his head. They stayed silent for what felt like a small infinity, until Seokmin sighed heavily.

“Don’t think that I’m going to let you go. I’ll stick to you like a leech, Yoon Jeonghan. Maybe I’ll be able to change your mind.”

“Good luck with that,” Jeonghan answered, leaning forwards and curling up into a ball. The world was just too heavy, too big for him. When it came to his life, he was out of control.

That night Jeonghan didn’t stay at Seokmin’s, even though Seokmin offered that. Instead, he walked back to his home, sobering up along the way, passing the bridge he almost fell off of.

The next morning he was woken up by Seokmin knocking on his door, illuminating the dim room with his bright smile, throwing away the empty alcohol bottles and telling Jeonghan to change into actual clothes because no, sweatpants were not clothes, and to go shopping. And so Jeonghan did. When in the dairy isle Seokmin made an egg pun so loudly the person next to them snorted, making Jeonghan laugh so hard he almost knocked down a pyramid of canned tomatoes, for the first time since Jun died, Jeonghan had felt alive.

Seokmin’s presence during the noon gave him enough strength to call Woozi in the afternoon, when Seokmin left. 

“What’s up, Angel?” Woozi’s tone was a tad too bright for Jeonghan’s liking.

“Not much.”

“Straight to business?” 

“If I could, please.” Jeonghan regretted not having a drink. Regretfully, Seokmin had confiscated everything that even resembled alcohol.

“What is it, then?”

“Jun’s motorcycle,” Jeonghan whispered, and then cleared his throat, so that the tone of his voice seemed firmer. “You said it was hauled off to your most trusted mechanic, right?”

“Right.”

“I need the address.”

“What are you planning, Angel?”

“Just fulfilling Jun’s death wishes.”

There was a silence on the other side, and then Jeonghan heard a heavy sigh. “I’ll send you the address over a text, okay? The guy’s name is Hoshi. Introduce yourself as my friend and tell him the details.”

“I will. Thank you, Woozi.”

“My pleasure.” With that, Woozi ended the call.

As promised, a while later a text came, address pointing to somewhere almost out of the town, but within half an hour distance of a ride. Minding Seokmin’s warning, something along the lines of ‘don’t do anything stupid without me’, Jeonghan forwarded the text, and asked Seokmin to come with him the next day.

Deciding to come on the next day instead of immediately was both a great and a terrible idea. That evening, Jeonghan broke down. There was no alcohol involved, there was no warning, no nothing. Suddenly, just standing there, in his kitchen, when Junhui was no longer alive was too hard for him. He spent most of the night on crying and hurling his limp body from one part of the flat to another. The next day he looked and felt like a zombie, but at least he didn’t have to explain to Seokmin why he couldn’t have appeared the day before.

When Jeonghan arrived at the destination and took off his helmet, Seokmin was already there, passing judging looks to Jeonghan and his motorbike.

“What’s wrong?” Jeonghan asked Seokmin as soon as they were within a talking distance. “You’re not smiley at all.”

Seokmin’s frown deepened even more. “I just don’t get why you’re doing all this motorcycle stuff. It’s too dangerous.”

Jeonghan sighed, and offered no answer. Instead, he kept walking, and Seokmin followed him.

“You have any idea where we’re going?”

“To the mechanic workshop, obviously.” 

“What are you going to do?”

“I thought I told you. Deal with Jun’s motorcycle.”

“But how?”

“That depends on the mechanic.” With that, Jeonghan stopped at the door to the closed part of the workshop. From where they were standing, they could see some guys through the open garage door, working on bikes. Jeonghan decided to enter through the door to the office section of the workshop rather than through the garage.

“In the racing world everyone has a nickname. For example, people call me Angel. Better get a nickname ready, you can’t introduce yourself with your name.”

“Is DK okay?” Seokmin asked, slightly worried. “I had this nickname through the middle school.”

“Yeah, it’s fine. And another thing,” Jeonghan lowered his voice. “Please, smile.”

Seokmin’s frown finally disappeared, replaced with a beautiful, bright smile. Jeonghan felt like the world had gotten a little bit better. Calmer on the inside, he finally opened the door and walked in.

After a short wait, a handsome, tall man in a sweaty tank top walked inside, wiping his hands from grease on a rug.

“Welcome, what can I help you with?” His eyes sparkled. He was smiling.

“I would like to talk with Hoshi, please.” Jeonghan spoke confidently.

“I’m sorry, boss is busy at the moment. Maybe I could help you?” The tall man’s expression didn’t change.

“It’s about Jun’s motorcycle.”

“Oh,” his expression finally changed. He finished wiping his hands and stuffed the rug into the pocket of his jeans. “I’m Giant. You must be Angel, right? Woozi told us about you.”

Giant extended his hand and Jeonghan shook it. “That’s right. I’m Angel, and this is DK,” he pointed at Seokmin with his thumb.

“Let me call the boss real quick, alright?”

“Of course.” Jeonghan watched Giant approach a blonde guy hidden behind a motorcycle, and then turned to Seokmin. “You okay? You’re unusually silent.”

Seokmin smiled faintly. “Yeah, I’m okay. I just don’t like the atmosphere in here.”

“Alright,” Jeonghan managed to answer before a guy with a headband on his forehead approached them.

“Hello, you’re Angel, right? I’m Hoshi. Giant told me you came.” He was speaking with an excited voice. 

“That’s right. I need to talk to you about Jun’s motorcycle.” Jeonghan’s voice cracked a little bit. Even thinking about Junhui was painful.

“Can we discuss it in the garage? I’m finishing up a job,” Hoshi asked, and pointed to a motorbike in one of the corners. It was pink, with purple flowers, and it reminded Jeonghan of Peach, the blonde girl from MX races.

“So,” Jeonghan started, but Hoshi cut in quickly.

“So what do you want to do with the motorcycle?”

“Jun insisted I can’t get it trashed.” Angel made a sour expression.

“That motorcycle is a masterpiece, it’s very highly customised. I bet Jun did most of the work himself. It would be a pity to cube it,” Hoshi agreed.

“But it’s not going to work now, right? After the accident.”

“No, not really. It’s very damaged. I guess it could be fixed, but that would require exchanging parts that were earlier customised by Jun. It wouldn’t be the same motorcycle, not really.”

“I was thinking,” Jeonhan took a deep breath and tried again. “I was thinking, the parts that need to be exchanged, could you take them from a different motorcycle?”

“I could,” Hoshi agreed reluctantly. “But what motorcycle?”

“Mine.”

“Why would you do that?” Hoshi asked, surprised.

“I want to enter MX in the next year.”

“But didn’t Jun die on track? Why would you do that?” Giant cut in from behind Jeonghan.

“Eavesdropping, are we?” Jeonghan sent him a death glare.

“I’m sorry, I can’t exactly become half deaf.”

“Neither can I,” confessed a boy who was working on a car lamp near them. “Jun was my idol, and I want to enter MX the next year, too.”

“What’s your name?” Jeonghan asked, worried by how young the boy looked. He couldn’t have been eighteen.

“I’m Dino.”

“And how old are you?”

“Eighteen,” He said, lips pressed. Jeonghan smelled bullshit.

“He’s sixteen,” Hoshi confirmed Jeonghan’s thoughts from behind his back. “And he’s not entering the races. Over my dead body.”

“But Hoshi, I can do it, I told you!”

“We’re not discussing this now,” Hoshi cut what seemed like a routine argument. 

“Jun didn’t die on tracks.” Jeonghan cut in after Hoshi silenced Dino. “He died in the hospital, of leukemia. He had been sick for years. The accident had him paralysed waist down and it worsened his state.”

“Oh my god.” Giant stopped even trying to pretend he wasn’t listening and abandoned the wrench he was using in favour of leaning against a car and listening to Angel’s words.

“On his death bed, he asked me to take care of his things and of his motorcycle, and to not get it trashed. I promised him I won’t let it go to waste.”

“So you want to get it repaired?” Hoshi was all ears.

“Yes, using the parts from my motorcycle. I want to take them and make them into one. Can it be done?”

“I would have to take a look on your motorcycle, but generally speaking, yeah. It’s possible.” Hoshi put his work aside and stepped up to Jeonghan, to hear him out better. “Could you tell me more about Jun’s accident? You said he was paralysed.” 

“He landed with his lower back, resulting in a spine injury. His spinal cord was severely fractured.” The medical terms tasted like poison on his tongue. Another person approached Jeonghan, curious about Jun’s life. He continued speaking.

“There was no way to save his legs. He was paraplegic for life. Which meant around three weeks. He had leukemia for years and there were metastatic tumors scattered across his entire body. That’s why he was riding so recklessly.”

A dull silence took over the entire garage.

“He told me to take care of his belongings. So I want to take care of his motorcycle properly, and bring it back to life. I want to enter the races. He told me to find one person, too. A guy called Xu Minghao. Do you know him?”

Everyone present shook their heads. Jeonghan sighed.

“Jun told me Minghao is an MX fan. I can be sure he’s going to be a contestant sooner or later. That’s one of the reasons I wanted to join.”

Nobody dared to break the silence, so Jeonghan continued. “I wish I had more time with Jun, I wish I could’ve gotten to know him better. But he died, and it was a long, painful death. I miss him more than I can ever say, and I feel like joining the races will make me feel closer to him.”

“I respect you,” Hoshi spoke after a while of heavy silence. “What you want to do is very noble. I can do the work for you, and actually, I can do it for free.”

“Thank you,” Jeonghan responded, trying to blink away the tears. “I can leave you my bike even today, if you want to start working on it as soon as possible.”

“I would love to. I’ll get a closer look on both motorcycles and tell you what else I might need.”

“Have you ever tried offroad racing before?” Giant asked Jeonghan suddenly.

“To be honest, I haven’t.”

“That’s what I thought,” Giant said. “I can let you train on my grounds. I mean, my uncle’s. He’s got a huge quad track.”

“And you’d be training with me!” Added Dino.

“Yeah, him and The8.”

“Who?” Asked Jeonghan awkwardly.

Mingyu pointed to the fifth person in the room, a guy with a mop of blonde curls on his head. “Both The8 and Dino are training with me on my uncle’s tracks. I’m giving them tips.” Giant beamed with pride. Jeonghan thought he looked and acted like a huge puppy.

“Tips?”

“I’m a MX champion, too. I took part in the race one year ago and landed on third.”

“Oh,” Jeonghan said. “I could use some of your tips, probably. As I said, I never even did offroad racing. My motorcycle is just not fit for that.”

“It’s going to be quite a while before I finish the franken-lovechid of yours and Jun’s bikes. What are you going to use until then?”

“I can lend him one of my bikes!” Giant was way too enthusiastic again, Jeonghan thought.

“You shouldn’t take part in the races if you can’t even do offroads,” Spoke the one introduced as The8. “MX isn’t for everyone. It’s the toughest race in the entire country.”

“Hey, come on, have some faith.” Hoshi attempted to chill the atmosphere before Jeonghan even processed The8’s words.

“Angel, he’s right,” Seokmin chimed in. For the umpteenth time this day jeonghan thought that without his trademark bright smile, Seokmin looks both handsome and sick. “You’re going to waste your life away.”

“Let me try. I have nothing left, no other memory of Junhui. Only the motorcycles, the MX. Let me at least try,” Jeonghan pleaded. The8 turned his eyes away.

“I have one condition, though,” Hoshi said after a heavy silence threatened to fall. “You have to come here frequently.”

“Why?” Seokmin chimed in again.

“I get bored in here. There’s only so much time I can spend with The8 being a smartass and Giant whining about his boyfriend.”

“What if we don’t want to come?” Jeonghan asked.

“Then I’m going to charge you for the repairs.”

“Alright, alright, I get it. I’m going to be a frequent guest.”

“You better. You and your pal,” Hoshi winked to DK, who in response turned his eyes away. Jeonghan could swear, though, that he saw Seokmin blush a little.

“We promise,” Jeonghan said, confident. They exchanged their goodbyes with the workshop team, and left together. Jeonghan left his motor in the garage.

“So I guess this means we use public transport together, hm?” Jeonghan tried to engage a conversation.

“Yes, it does.”

“Why are you so morose all of sudden?” Jeonghan asked, genuine worry in his voice.

“I’m just scared about you and your well being. I don’t want you to end up like Jun did. You heard The8 today.”

“I did, but… I just have no other choice. I want to find Minghao. I don’t want to forget Junhui.”

Seokmin didn’t answer. Jeonghan sighed heavily, and tried again.

“Listen, I have a lot of time before the races officially start. I’m just going to be training for now. I promise you I’m not gonna go crazy or anything. And if I turn out to be a super terrible rider, I will drop out of the race. Happy now?”

“Certainly happier than I was a second ago.”

“Then give me a smile, my precious fool!” Jeonghan sing-songed, calling Seokmin what he used to call him in the school days. Seokmin did smile, widely and happily, and most importantly, sincerely. Again, for a split second, Jeonghan felt as if everything was okay.


	9. Graves and Gravel

Jeonghan put back his cup on the saucer. The coffee he was drinking was mediocre, as well as the date. Seungcheol shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“So how’s the search for the Minghao?” Seungcheol asked to break the silence.

“Completely and utterly fruitless. It’s like he doesn’t even exist.”

“Have you asked the cousin?”

“Linxia? Yes. She looked around for him and all she found up is that he left China a while ago.”

“Does anyone know where he went?”

“We’re speculating he’s here, trying to get into MX. After all it was his passion. That, and I’ve been told he never stopped being into motorcycles.”

“I see.” Seungcheol nodded. The otherwise uncomfortable silence was filled with the soft noise of people chatting and cups chimming. The cafe was alive. Their conversation’s been dead on arrival.

“I’m sorry, Cheollie. I just can’t get my shit together ever since…”

“Ever since he died. I know.” Seuncheol smiled faintly. “Don’t push yourself.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to see you, it’s just that…” He sighed deeply. “It’s all too fresh.”

“Please.” Seungcheol’s voice was more stern this time. “Don’t force yourself.”

Jeonghan stayed silent. There was nothing he could have said that he haven’t said already. It was Seungcheol’s turn to sigh heavily.

“I want to ask you something Jeonghan,” Seungcheol said, breaking an uncomfortable and heavy silence that took over the both of them.

“Yes?”

“Don’t ride.”

“Excuse me?” Jeonghan couldn’t believe his ears.

“Don’t ride in the monstercross. Don’t do it. It’s too dangerous, you could die.”

“Seungcheol, I have already made my decision and it’s got nothing to do with you!” Jeonghan raised his voice, aggravated.

“Nothing? It’s me who showed you the MX, it’s me who was such a terrible date that you ditched me for a random guy in the bar, it’s me who didn’t go after you the entire time, and who didn’t even go to the funeral with you.”

“Stop blaming yourself for everything.”

“How can I?”

“Just…” Jeonghan took a deep breath and puffed it out, calming himself instead of shouting. After all, it wasn’t his flat, and they weren’t alone. “Just stop it. I’m not backing out.” With that, he stood up and gathered his belongings. He briefly considered throwing a tenner on the table for the coffee, but the thought of Seungcheol having to pay for the stormed-out Jeonghan was oddly satisfying.

“Please, just listen to me, don’t ride!” Seungcheol stood up as well, but Jeonghan was already dressed in his jacket.

“No way in hell I’m listening to you. I’m going to take part in MX. Goodbye, Seungcheol.”

Jeonghan made a beeline to the exit door, putting his scarf on. For the first time this winter it was snowing, and Jeonghan regret not wearing a hat. Luckily, the way to the bus stop was short, and the bus arrived almost immediately; the amount of snow he had to shake off his head wasn’t that much. Even if because of the winter it was hard to train on the open tracks, Jeonghan stayed true to his promise of visiting Hoshi’s workshop often, and so did Seokmin, despite his aversion to motorcycles.

Jeonghan was excited like a child to see his franken-motorbike and to see his newly gained friends. Hoshi turned out to be as enthusiastic as he was the first day, making witty jokes as much as corny jokes, but above all he was incredibly skilled with motorbikes, both with fixing them and riding them.

They bonded quickly, but DK bonded with Hoshi even quicker. They were cut from the same stone, and yet, Seokmin tried to distance himself from the entire workshop crew, remembering they were all more or less tied with MX races. Both Hoshi and Giant were champions, or rather survivors of the monstercross; Hoshi three and Giant two years ago.

Giant turned out to be a gigantic child, with an incredibly handsome face and impressive 186cm height. He also turned out to be dating Wonwoo, who Jeonghan remembered as Green Thumb, the bartender from Black Tar bar. Green Thumb turned out to be a regular guest at the workshop as well, coming there before or after his work just to sit on the countertop, pass wrenches, read books and rarely talk. Jeonghan soon realised it was just his way of spending time, and not a meaningful, or angry silence. 

Another person whose real name Jeonghan learned was Chan, nicknamed Dino, still a kid, and an absolute prodigy when it came to riding motorbikes, doing crazy stunts as if it was his simplest routine. Because of the age difference Jeonghan quickly started mothering him, treating him as the younger brother he never had. 

The only person who Jeonghan didn’t really manage to become friends with was The8. He was a skinny kid who never spoke a lot, but while Green Thumb’s silence was always comfortable, The8’s was much more heavy. He believed in hard work and talent, and he certainly had both. Giant kept promising The8 was actually a softie at heart, but The8 never let anyone see this side of him, so nobody could confirm or negate his words.

With a wide smile Jeonghan opened the workshop door without as much as knocking. All of his previous anger has disappeared already.

“Hello there, how are my favourite mechanics?” He chimed, unwrapping the scarf from his neck. He halted his movements halfway when he noticed how crestfallen everyone’s expressions were. “What happened?”

“Dino is in the hospital,” Hoshi spoke, dried up patches of tears visible on his face.

“He had an accident,” Giant spoke, paler than Jeonghan had ever seen him. “He wanted to do a couple of rounds outside and I let him, but there was ice, and his motorcycle… I shouldn’t have let him…” 

“There was so much blood.” Hoshi cut in. “He put his helmet on wrong, and it fell off. He hit his head. And the medics told us we can’t come along.”

“Oh my god.” Jeonghan felt as if he was to pass out. “Oh my god.”

“We don’t know what state he’s in. We don’t know anything,” Hoshi spoke with a monotonous voice, eyes blank, stare fixed somewhere nobody could reach. He was broken. Jeonghan hated himself for being so chipper seconds ago.

“When did it happen?”

“Less than an hour earlier. We begged the medics to let us come along but they said only family can go.”

“Does anyone have a number to his parents?”

“I have.” Hoshi sounded like a machine, with how empty he was. “Under Chan’s Mom. She has mine, too. I already texted her. She told me she’s going to call me when she knows anything.”

“Oh my god.” Was the last thing Jeonghan said before sitting down and joining the grave silence enveloping everyone.

They spent almost three hours barely speaking and nervously waiting for an answer. During this time Seokmin came and joined them, making the same faux pas as Jeonghan. Seokmin cried where Jeonghan couldn’t.

There were things happening in Jeonghan’s head. Many, many things. The fear of death, that appeared each time he pulled a stunt with his motorcycle and which he managed to silence, ringed back in. It wasn’t enough that his lover had to become paralysed because of the races, but also a child, his youngest friend, his precious baby Chan. Jeonghan felt like he was next in line. The fear was atavistic, coming from somewhere deep inside him , growing slowly from the back of his head until it had claimed all his thoughts and made him fear his own death more than Chan’s. Nauseous, pale, he hated himself for not being able to grieve properly. He stormed out of the workshop, hoping that a smoke and the cold, winter air are going to sober him up. Giant joined him wordlessly.

“I have never been more afraid,” he confessed. “Not even when it was me who almost ended up like this. I always felt sort of invincible. Like all the bad stuff… IT can happen, of course, but not to me. Not to anyone I know.”

“I felt the same way,” Jeonghan’s voice was soft in the snow-covered darkness. “And then Jun highsided.”

“I think I understand how you felt,” Giant managed to murmur after a long while.

“I’m scared,” Jeonghan confessed back. “What if I end up like this, too? What if I die, too?”

“Stop saying that like he’s dead already.” Giant’s voice vibrated with anger.

“I’m speaking about Jun.”

“Didn’t you say Jun died of leukemia?”

“The spine injury aggravated the metastatic masses. The accident quickened his death.”

“Ah,” Giant murmured and took a drag of his cigarette.

“I’m scared,” Jeonghan repeated. “Maybe DK was right.”

“What did he say?”

“He told me to not get involved with motorcycles, because it’s too dangerous.”

“I remember you told me he hates motorbikes.”

“He thinks they’re the cause of all my misfortune.” 

“Do you want to withdraw from the race?”

Jeonghan stayed silent. He simply stood there, smoking his cigarette until it burned out, and then he lit another. The winter air was getting to him, and he was shaking with cold, and his freezing fingers were losing their grip on the cigarette. Still, he had to think, and come to conclusions before he stepped back inside the workshop. Giant stayed with him, less affected by the cold.

“Maybe Seokmin was right,” Jeonghan spoke finally, after throwing away the butt of the second cigarette.

“Maybe he was,” confirmed an ex-champion of MX. “Care to spare me another?”

“It’s yours.”Jeonghan gave Mingyu the entire pack of cigarettes and stepped back inside, leaving the other in the cold. The workshop was strangely quiet, so Jeonghan decided to look for Hoshi and DK in the office-administration space. The patch of light from under the door lead him there.

He opened the door, without knocking, and shock twisted his face. Instead of finding the two sitting, numb with grief like he was just seconds ago, he found them in a very non-ambiguous situation. Seokmin was shirtless, sitting on the desk, wrapping his legs around Hoshi’s middle. They were both equally aroused, with tousled hair and swollen lips.

“Oh god,” muttered Seokmin. He quickly tried to grab his shirt, but instead he knocked it off the desk, and to the floor. With nothing to cover himself with, he stopped trying to.

“Oh… Sorry, Angel.” Hoshi was much more calm about the whole ordeal, not knowing what Seokmin and Jeonghan both did.

“So that’s how you avoid people who have anything to do with MX, yes?” Jeonghan was too bitter to stop himself from hurting one of his best friends. “I see, I see, motorcycles are awful and you want to have nothing to do with people who ride them, yes?”

“Jeonghan, it’s not like that…” Seokmin forgot about the nickname, getting off the table.

“No, fuck you. It’s exactly like that. Chan just had an accident, and this is what you do? Suck faces with one of the MX champions, cause you hate those guys so much?”

Seokmin didn’t answer. He only bit his lip, tears welling up in his eyes.

“That’s it. I’m gonna enter MX. Hoshi, finish up my bike as soon as you can. I’m going to be training solo from now on.”

Jeonghan left the building, slamming the door behind himself. Before he left he grabbed the thing that became his lucky charm - the keys to Jun’s motorbike, no longer usable and beaten up, much like Jeonghan himself.


	10. The rubble

This year’s MX was organised in a cluster of huge rocks, half-covered with trees and woods. Jeonghan wasn’t worried. He was prepared for everything, including dodging stray trees that could appear on the paths, at least that was what he thought.

He passed himself a long look in the mirror before putting on his, or rather Jun’s helmet. He still hadn’t grown used to the look he was about to sport: short black hair instead of a long, blonde ponytail, Junhui’s retro jacket instead of his trusted black one, a garnet red helmet instead of his own, black one. Memories of Junhui enveloped him as if it was water enveloping a bridge jumper - heavy, blocking his breath, far from pleasant but also far from unwelcome. Even the haircut was reminiscent of Jun - shorter hair was not only cooler during the summer but also easier to stuff inside a helmet.

Jeonghan didn’t have time or headspace for second thoughts. He couldn’t have afforded them, not after everything he went through to be a part of the pre-qualifiers. On his way to the rock cluster he went slow, barely pressing the gas. The time to go fast would come later.

Almost immediately when he stopped in front of the workshop shed and threw his leg around the motorbike, someone approached him.

“Angel, you have no idea what I had to do to come here.”

“Please, cut it. I’m not quitting, Seungcheol.”

“Listen, don’t throw your life away,” Seungcheol begged, like he did countless times already, through texts and calls.

“Stop speaking like I’m not going to make it through the race,” Jeonghan snapped.

“Even if you do, the races are too dangerous. Do you want to end up as a vegetable, like Dino? Or better yet, in a coma?”

“Don’t speak about Dino in my presence.”

Seungcheol shouted some more pleads, but Jeonghan refused to listen to them. He simply walked away, pressing his lips into a thin line.

The spectators had already chosen their places on the tops of the rocks, and on the metal platforms dedicated for that purpose. Jeonghan headed in the opposite direction, deeper into the metal sheds, leading his bike, seeing as the crowd was too dense to ride through it.

Nobody questioned his presence, but also nobody acknowledged it. He simply found a part of the car port workshop that was unoccupied, and started the last preparations before the race. Mingyu taught him a lot about how to properly take care of his bike, and Jeonghan absorbed all of it. Just by looking at his motorcycle he noticed the back fender needed adjusting.

His franken-Jun bike was a masterpiece of sorts. Hoshi put a lot of hard work into combining Jeonghan’s city motorbike and Jun’s dual-sports, offroad bike. The effects were amazing. The engine had the joined power of both bikes, agility of the streetfighter, and endurance of the dual-sports bike. The proportions of what came from which motorcycle were pretty even; looks-wise, though, the new bike looked almost identically to Jun’s old one, with the high front fender and red covers.

Jeonghan loved it, but others seemed to hate it. Before he even started touching up his bike he got so many nasty looks he couldn’t count them anymore. He didn’t care, though, and he simply took care of the back fender. 

“You’re not going to tell them to sod off?” A voice asked. Jeonghan turned around, but didn’t get up. 

“Why should I?”

“They’re staring at you.” The girl was tall, and very pretty. When Jeonghan stood up, she was equally as tall as him. What surprised him was that when she shifted her weight, he heard a click. She was wearing high heels.

“And why are you not staring at me like the rest?”

“I remember you from year ago. You kissed Jun.” She simply said.

Jeonghan suddenly remembered her uniform, pink with purple flowers. The girl who won the previous race, Peach, was wearing an identical one. “You were there with Peach?”

“I was. I remember you with Jun.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“The other’s don’t remember. They think you’re stealing his legend. A reckless driver who died on the track. And now you have a motor like he did, a jacket like he did.” Something about the way she spoke told Jeonghan she wasn’t a native speaker.

“It’s his jacket, and his motor. Well, partially.”

“But they don’t know it, and they hate you.”

An uncomfortable silence fell over them. Jeonghan broke it. “I’m Angel.”

“I’m Clicker.”

“Clicker?”

“Because I wear high heels to the races.”

“Oh, so you’re a contestant, too?”

She nodded. Jeonghan extended his right hand.

“Godspeed.”

Clicker shook it. “Godspeed.”

Talking about Jun and his franken-bike made Jeonghan think of another thing he inherited after Jun - the keys to his motorbike. The ignition switch part was taken from Jeonghan’s motorcycle, so the keys to Jun’s old bike were useless. Still, he kept them as a good luck charm. Something made Jeonghan want to touch them, grab them again, so he searched his pockets, and found nothing.

Sourness poured over his entire being. Without his lucky charm he felt lost. Still, there was no time to head back to his tiny, littered with alcohol bottles flat and look for it. Jeonghan just had to hope everything will go well even without the keys.

He turned back to his motorcycle. Fixing the back fender was an easy job, requiring fastening just a few screws, but Jeonghan pretended to be on it for a long, long while, just to avoid the moment of awkward emptiness as he had nobody to talk to. The time dragged unbearably, until it was the time to leave the shed and take their positions at the start line.

Jeonghan didn’t put his helmet on immediately, like Jun used to, and he regretted it very quickly. He couldn’t pretend that he haven’t noticed all the angry stares the public and other contestants passed him. Having no other option, he pretended they don’t phase him, when in reality they made him feel guilty for using Jun’s fame, even if in reality that wasn’t his intention. 

His heart was pounding heavily in his chest. He was starting from a back position, in the third row, and he was sure fighting to get into the top sixteen would prove difficult. Still, he had high hopes. He trained for an entire year under the eye of an MX champion. There was nothing about his performance that could’ve gone better than it already did. He looked around, confident, and his eyes stopped at a familiar figure.

The8 approached him, helmet in one hand. “Angel, we need to talk.”

“If you want to tell me what shitty driver I am, don’t. I’ve heard it enough times already.”

“I’m not going to”

“What is it then? We don’t really have the time for chitchat, the race is about to start.”

“I won’t take long.” The8 sighed heavily. “I still don’t think you’re good enough to ride in the race, but there is no way you’re going to back out now. So I have something important to tell you.”

The8’s silence was meaningful, but too heavy for Jeonghan. He broke it. “Yes?”

“I’m Xu Minghao, the one you’ve been looking for. I’ve already listened to Jun’s story, but if you qualify, no, if you just finish the race,” he took a deep breath. “I’m going to tell you more about Junhui. You said you want to know more about him, right?”

For a second, Jeonghan could only hear his own heartbeat, much faster than usually. And then Minghao’s words hit him. “Oh my god. It’s you.”

“Yes, I told you.”

“I’m going to ace this race, just you wait.”

“It’s about to start, so godspeed.” The phrase seemed to stick.

“Godspeed.” Both Jeonghan and Minghao headed back to their motorcycles and put on their helmets. This year, there was no commentary, only Havi again with a megaphone, telling all contestants to get into their positions and turn on the engines. 

With his tires on the burnout and his mind sharp, Jeonghan started. The entire world went into fast forward. He put his entire will into staying fast, staying sharp, staying alive. And it worked, for half of the first loop.

The thing about motocross, or any type of motorbike racing honestly is that you never think; you simply don't have the time to. All the training you do is to make your mind used to all the tricks, pushes and pulls, subtle twists of the handlebars, to make them automatic. If you have to think about the fact that you have to drift, then you won't make the drift in time. You have to train your subconsciousness, so your hands react before you do yourself.

But it's tricky. When you dive into the subconsciousness, when you lose yourself to the instinct, and your mind becomes blank, it's tempting for the thoughts to form. And there's just so much you can spend focused on listening to the engine roar before the silent hum of what occupied you before the race in the back of your head turns into formed words in the foreground of your mind. There's a clear moment when that happens, and the best riders can feel it approaching, and they can turn that into a thought about the track, the road, the state of their bike, and then dwelve back into the subconsciousness, and that's why they win, racing past those that fell out of the zone.

For Jeonghan, that moment came when he felt the subtle tug of the keys in his breast pocket.

‘Ah, so that's where I put them’, he thought, far too clearly for his own safety. In those two seconds, the words flashed in his mind and all his focus was put on the delicate, barely-there weight of the metal on the cartilage of his ribs.

From the back right, just on the edge of his sight range came a light quad, and Jeonghan wasted the precious milliseconds on turning his head to see the vehicle more clearly instead of diving away. The quad's front tire nudged Jeonghan’s back wheel, and he lost his balance. He tried to sharply turn back right but had the misfortune of sliding over something slippery, and hitting the quad again. Instinctively, he pressed the gas, mistimed the turn, and felt his hands slipping off the handles and his stomach turning, as the gravity around him shifted.

Next thing he felt was immense pain in his back, and then in the back of his neck. Then, he must have slid against something, because he felt a short drag across his back, and then heard two snaps, one coming as if from within him, and then another one from somewhere below. He opened his eyes, suddenly noticing that he instinctively closed them because of the pain, and the only thought that appeared in his head was " _ leaves _ ”, and then his eyes fell closed again, because of the gravity point shifting again. If his brain was working properly, he'd understand he hit a tree.

Everything up to that moment seemed to be in slow motion, and that was only noticeable because of the burning, twisting, white-hot pain he suddenly felt in his entire chest, spreading from just right from his xiphoid process that made the world speed up. And then the air left his lungs, feeling left his fingertips, and consciousness left his mind. All he could hear was his own screaming, but he couldn't be screaming, not when his throat was clenched more than ever before and there was no breath in him. If he thought he knew pain before, he certainly changed his mind now.

His helmet must have fallen off, because suddenly he could hear and see clearly. The next snap, or rather a dragged out crunch right in front him, he heard crystal clear. He felt something against his chest, something big and heavy, and his arms were slung over it too. He tried to grab onto it, but couldn’t. An excruciatingly long moment later, the world shifted again, and he concluded he must have hit the ground, because he felt a heavy pain first in his legs, and then in the back and then head, and then nothing was moving anymore.

Jeonghan managed to open his eyes. On his right, he saw his motorcycle, just the front wheel, and then he understood that the thing blocking his view was a branch sticking out of his own body. He tried to reach for the vehicle for no reason, and even though it didn't hurt him, even though it didn’t feel like a huge effort, he simply couldn't move his hand more than just a few centimeters. Something seemed to be definitely wrong with his right arm. Under other conditions it would probably burn with pain, but in the face of what was going on in his chest, it felt like the slightest tinge.

He heard his own breathing become gargling. Then, he choked, and his own, bright red blood dripped from his chin. The pain was so overwhelming he couldn't register it anymore.

Only then the realisation hit him. He was dying. It wasn't even a proper thought, but it made him want to think properly. To have the last thought. To maybe have the last words, but when he as much as thought of speaking, he wheezed so terribly he almost scared himself.

Then, he realised he couldn't hear the roar of the motorcycles anymore, just the roar of the public. For some reason the thought brought tears to his eyes. Or, was he already crying before? Instinctively, with as much effort as he could, he brought his left hand to his chest, touching the keys through a layer of leather.

“Junhui.”

He found it in himself to slide his hand into the breast pocket, and grab the keys, and even pull them out. He wanted to look at them, but he couldn’t turn his head. It hurt too much. He couldn’t even breath properly, it was noisy, reminding him of an old man, or a whistle under the water.

"You must have been so lonely, Junhui. Pulling me behind you,” he found himself thinking, and the sight of the motorcycle began blurring. He hoped it was tears, and he tried to blink them away. 

Jeonghan felt like he should have thought something more, passed a message to his friends, his family, maybe, to Seungcheol, or even that he should have devoted one more thought to Junhui. The regret didn't last long. Everything went quiet, and he couldn't see his motorcycle anymore. Breathing hitched in him, and for a split second he could feel all of the pain again, ripping through him in a white hot wave.

He didn't react. He couldn't.


	11. Epilogue

The sky was covered with clouds, but the air was hot, humid and stuffy. Three men and two women, all clad in black, were looking down on a freshly dug grave, as the coffin was being lowered into it.

Nobody said anything. The priest finished his prayers. Nobody else spoke. They all threw a handful of dirt onto the closed coffin. They were all silent.

Jeonghan’s mother cried later, in the hotel room, and then again in Jeonghan’s old flat, going through all the junk he gathered on shelves, all the empty alcohol bottles he gathered on the floor, all the memories that gathered within the four walls. She blamed herself for not being there for her son, for only coming when it was too late. Until the very end of her life, she hated motorcycles.

Linxia barely cried. She wasn’t as sad as she was angry. On the plane back to China she gritted her teeth, hating herself for not convincing Jeonghan to never take part in MX, to never ride a motorbike again. Deep inside, though, she knew she wasn’t guilty and that her pleads would have never changed anything. In her flat, she remembered her brother, and finally broke into sobs.

Seokmin cried. He blamed himself for not talking Jeonghan out of the races, and for getting into a relationship with Hoshi, or rather, Soonyoung. He cried the most when from the best platform with the best view - thank Hoshi for that one - he saw Jeonghan fly off his motorbike and hit a tree, and then bleed to death. And then he cried again, at the funeral. And then again, in his house. He felt responsible for Jeonghan’s death, even many years later.

Minghao cried, but he cried tears of anger, not of sorrow. He was the one to close Jeonghan’s eyes after he died, and he was the one to throw the last fistful of dirt on his coffin. He came to the funeral with Jeonghan’s helmet, wanting to put it in the coffin, and was forbidden. Instead, he tried to find Jun’s grave, or rather the plaque Jun’s ashes were resting behind. Linxia texted him the correct address, number of the lane, number of the plaque. Still, he couldn’t find it. In his anger, he smashed the helmet to pieces against a tree.

Seungcheol cried, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, but he only cried during the funeral. As soon as he left the cemetery, he felt numb. He didn’t feel guilty - he tried his absolute best to stop Jeonghan, and he knew there was nothing left that he could have done. He didn’t want to head back home. Instead, he visited a cafe, where he met Joshua, an old friend, asking about the person he wanted to forget the most.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big THANK YOU to everyone who followed my story and who read through it! I'm very sorry for what I've done to you, and to Jeonghan and Jun and Dino and everyone else. Please don't forget to leave kudos comment if you've enjoyed this story/cried when reading it/want to stab me for doing this to your babies! If you want to shout at me more personally, or ask any questions, I invite you to my twitter (@frigcal) or tumblr (yoonsideshave)! That being said - godspeed!


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